


The Contract

by StopLookListen



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Characters other than Clarke/Lexa are minor, Child Abuse, F/F, Flashbacks, Lesbian Sex, Minor Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Some very minor Finn/Clarke, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Violence, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-11-16 23:56:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11263695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StopLookListen/pseuds/StopLookListen
Summary: Lexa Woods is many things to many people.To some she is a consummate professional, a bringer of justice, a hero.  To others she is a nightmare, an unyielding force of nature, Death itself.When Lexa discovers a contract has been taken out on the life of her ex-girlfriend, she vows to do whatever it takes to protect Clarke Griffin, the woman she still loves.





	1. Chapter 1

Lexa Woods is already awake when her alarm goes off at 06:11. She reaches out to turn it off, sits up and swings her legs over the side of her bed. Lexa sits there for a few minutes, mentally preparing herself for the day. She gets up, crosses her sparsely decorated bedroom and enters her bathroom, where she rinses the sleep from her eyes and brushes her teeth. She walks over to her chest of drawers, takes off her loose tank top and pyjama bottoms and pulls on leggings and a long sleeve running top.

By 06:30 she is standing on her patio, stretching and looking at the woods surrounding her. After her final hamstring stretch, she runs to the edge of the treeline and disappears into the trees.

Lexa returns at 07:30, sweat coating her skin as she takes deep, controlled breaths. She takes a shower, washes and dries herself quickly, and sits at her vanity table, where she runs her fingers over the deep red ribbon placed carefully on the desk. She combs her long brunette hair, thinks about cutting it for the hundredth time and resigns herself to the fact she never will, before weaving it, and the ribbon into a braid.

At 08:15 she sits at her kitchen island, a ham and mushroom omelette and an orange juice in front of her. Dressed in tailored black trousers and a fitted black shirt, Lexa eats mechanically as she reads the news on her tablet.

Lexa stands in front of a large steel door in her hallway. She types the code into the keypad next to it and the door swings open. Lexa walks down the steps into her basement, hearing the door shut behind her as the automatic lights came on. At the bottom of the stairs she inputs another code into a keypad and watches as sections of the walls slide upwards, revealing row upon row of weapons. Pistols, submachine guns, rifles, shotguns, knives and a grenade launcher line the hidden shelves.

At 09:00 Lexa begins dismantling, cleaning and reassembling her arsenal. She works quickly, the years of practice have made the task rote.

Two hours later, Lexa enters her living room. She sits in her large, comfortable armchair and continues to read the Fragile States Index.

Lexa prepares herself some lunch at 13:00, a chicken salad sandwich. She eats it while looking through her investment portfolio.

Lexa stands in the woods and looks at the targets she has placed on the trees. She picks up the USP45 and racks the slide a few times. Finding the smoothness of the action adequate, Lexa loads a magazine into the grip. She racks the gun a final time, loading a round into the chamber before she aims and fires at the nearest target. Lexa discharges the entire magazine, reloads and fires, reloads and fires, before moving onto the MP5A3 and then the ACR. She picks up the shell casings, digs the bullets from the trees and pulls down the targets, places everything in her large duffle bag and heads home.

By 15:30 she is in her home gym. She meditates before running through numerous martial arts forms.

Lexa looks at the bookcases that dominate her small library. Her long fingers caress the spine of Phaedo. She pulls it off the shelf, sighs, rolls her eyes, puts the book back and picks up Matilda.

Lexa reads until 18:00. She prepares a simple dinner, salmon and pasta and uses her tablet to catch up on the latest news.

At 18:45 she emails her investment broker and makes some changes to her portfolio. She logs onto the website of her arms supplier and orders some more ammunition. Opening a new tab, Lexa types in a series of numbers and pulls up a nondescript website, a simple page asking for a username and password. She enters her details and begins to scroll through the new contracts. None of them meet her criteria so Lexa logs out. She returns to her library, looks at Phaedo again before grabbing Ella Enchanted.

Lexa thinks about her Father. She wonders if there is an afterlife, if he is burning in hell and if she will see him there when she dies.

As Lexa prepares for bed, she carefully removes the red ribbon from her hair. She places it on her vanity and runs her fingers over it, a small, sad smile on her face as she briefly thinks about it's original owner. Lexa climbs into bed and turns off the lights at 22:00.

Lexa is already awake when her alarm goes off at 06:11. She goes through the motions of another day. Minor changes are made, the route she runs, the food she eats, the books she reads, but her schedule remains the same. Until 18:55, when everything changes. 

Lexa logs onto the website and scrolls through the contracts, dismissing each of them as she usually does, until her blood runs cold, a chill creeps down her spin and she forgets to breathe as she stares unblinking at the photo accompanying the newest contract.

She looks the same. Her hair is shorter, but still the same golden blonde Lexa remembers. Her eyes, still sparkling blue. Her face, rounded and ever so beautiful. The cute dimple in her chin and the exquisite little mole above her pale pink lips, curved upwards in a small smile. Lips that, if Lexa thinks hard enough, she can still remember the taste and feel of, pressed tight against her own.

Lexa thinks for a moment that a mistake has been made. That the wrong photo has been used, or, crazily, she has a long-lost identical twin. Lexa tears her eyes from the photo, flicking them to the information next to it. She lets out a shuddering breath as she reads the text next to Name. Confusion and disbelief quickly give way to acceptance as she realises that somebody has taken out a contract on the life of Clarke Griffin. 

Lexa composes herself as she continues to read the information next to the photo. The birthday is the same and the background information tells the story of Clarke’s life. Lexa skims over what she already knows, slowing down when she reads that Clarke had graduated Arkadia High School in 2008. She enrolled at Arkadia University the same year, joining the pre-med program and majored in Biology with a minor in Biochemistry. In 2012, Clarke graduated university summa cum laude and enrolled at the Arkadia University Medical School. She graduated with honors in 2016 and was currently a first year resident of emergency medicine at Arkadia Memorial Hospital.

Unable, unwilling to suppress the pride that blooms in her chest, Lexa can't help but smile. Clarke had accomplished everything she’d strived for, her dreams of becoming a doctor realised. 

Opening another tab in her browser, Lexa quickly arranges transportation to Arkadia. The second she saw Clarke was in danger, there was only one option available to her. She would protect Clarke, kill anyone that tried to hurt her, track down the contract’s owner and eliminate them.


	2. Chapter 2

When Clarke Griffin’s alarm clock goes off at 6:50am, she is violently pulled from her slumber. Blindly reaching out she begins slapping her hand on her bedside table, eventually hitting the alarm clock’s snooze button. When the alarm goes off a second time, she lets out a loud groan before, reluctantly, getting out of bed. She staggers towards her bathroom, cursing under her breath as she kicks the half assembled easel lying on the floor.

Clarke washs her face, brushes her teeth and twists her hair into a loose bun. She takes off her pyjama shorts and oversized t-shirt and changes into her scrubs. Clarke removes a slinky black dress from her closet, a set of lacy, black underwear from her drawers and places them into a garment bag. She throws her makeup kit, 2 textbooks and a sketchpad into her backpack and leaves her room. 

She crosses the hallway, gently knocking on the door opposite.

“Raven” She says quietly, “Are you there?”

There is no answer. Clarke starts to knock again but hears the faint sounds of music coming from the combination living room and kitchen. Walking down the hallway, Clarke sees her roommate and friend, Raven Reyes, sitting at their small kitchen table.

“Morning Clarke” Raven says, taking a bite of her toast. “How was your day yesterday?”

“Quiet, fortunately. Yours?” Clarke replies, taking a seat.

“Pretty cool. Sinclair says I’m definitely helping build the new propulsion system for the next Pioneer!” Raven is unable to keep the excitement from her voice.

“That’s great Raven. You’re working on a project you actually like, with an engineer you actually respect!” Clarke can’t help but smirk.

Raven levels a glare at Clarke, but her features quickly soften. She shrugs, almost shyly. “Sinclair’s OK” she finally concedes.

Clarke smiles, quickly changing the subject. “You weren’t in when I got home last night.”

Raven shoots Clarke a pleased grin. “I was having fun. Kurt or Kyle, something like that.”

Clarke laughs, “Sounds like the beginnings of a strong, lasting relationship.” She replies sarcastically.

Raven scoffs, “No, Clarke, it was just sex and it was fun. Speaking of…” She looks at the garment bag Clarke has placed on the sofa. Clarke levels an identical glare at Raven, which just makes Raven grin. Clarke rolls her eyes.

“I’m meeting Finn for dinner tonight. It’s our fourth date, he’s smart and sweet and handsome.”

Raven raises her eyebrows, “Let’s hope he’s fun as well. You got time for breakfast? I’ll make you something.”

“Yeah, thanks” Clarke says gratefully. Her smile falls as she sees Raven grab a bowl and fill it with corn flakes and milk, which she places in front of Clarke.

“Thanks Raven” Clarke says sarcastically, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Raven grins as she takes a large bite of her toast.

 

If Lexa thought her reaction to seeing a picture of Clarke was extreme, seeing her in person is almost overwhelming. Lexa immediately feels lightheaded, her stomach twists and her heart starts beating faster as the breath is stolen from her. She’s unable to stop herself rubbing her now clammy hands on her trousers. Even dressed in a casual blue jacket and unflattering scrubs, Clarke looks radiant.

Lexa watches from her inconspicuous 4 door sedan as Clarke walks down the steps of her apartment building. Stopping at the foot of the stairs, she shifts the weight of a garment bag as she looks behind her. Lexa follows Clarke’s gaze and sees a beautiful woman, glossy brunette hair tied back in a neat ponytail, her slim, athletic body clad in tight dark jeans and a bright red jacket. The woman shuts the door of the apartment complex and bounds down the stairs. She says something to Clarke, who smiles and laughs. The two women hug before parting ways, the brunette going right, Clarke left, to the subway.

Lexa sighs and pushes down the unpleasant, unexpected spike of jealousy she feels. She shakes her head, annoyed at herself. It has been so long, so many years have passed, the feeling is pointless, unnecessary and unwelcome. Lexa exits her car and starts to follow Clarke.

 

Clarke hangs her garment bag in her locker, picks up several pens and walks out of the locker room. She greets her colleagues as she passes, exchanging quick pleasantries as she makes her way to the emergency department nurses station. Clarke logs onto Ark M’s computer system, officially starting her shift at 8 o’clock.

Throughout the morning Clarke sees numerous patients, everything from a brave little girl with a broken arm to a cantankerous old man with breathing problems. At 6 minutes past 11, Clarke loses a patient. A middle-aged man is brought in, already intubated by the EMTs, he has suffered a massive cardiac arrest. Clarke's attending runs the code, Clarke gets the airway and a third year resident inserts the central line. Despite their best efforts, the patient quickly experiences asystole and they are unable to revive him. Clarke takes a moment, realises there’s nothing they could have done to save him, and promises herself she'll be better next time.

 

“Come in.”

Clarke opens the door and steps into the large, tastefully furnished office. The attractive, older woman sitting behind the desk, smiles when she sees who's entered.

“Clarke, how are you? You look a little tired.” The concern is evident in her tone.

“No, I'm fine Mom. I lost a patient earlier, nothing I could do but…” Clarke trails off, shrugging.

Abigail Griffin nods with understanding. “Nothing we can do, but promise we'll be better next time.”

“Right.” Clarke's smile is sad, but genuine. “I was going to get some lunch. Would you like to join me?”

“I'd love to, but I have a conference call with the Chief of Surgery at Polis Medical in five minutes.” Abby replies with a look of disappointment. “Maybe I could-”

“Mom, it's OK.” Clarke interrupts, as her eyes drift to the nameplate on her Mom’s desk. The one Clarke bought her, the one that proclaims her, ‘Chief of Surgery’. “I know how busy you two are. How difficult it is to meet”

“Are you off this weekend? Sunday? You could come to the house, for dinner.”

Clarke smiles and nods. “I'd like that. I need to get some lunch, but I'll see you Sunday.”

“Sunday.” Abby repeats, returning her daughter's smile.

 

Clarke's afternoon does not go well. A multiple vehicle collision floods the ED with casualties. Clarke works tirelessly, stabilizing some and sending them to surgery, treating and discharging others, remembering those beyond her help. 

 

Standing in front of her locker, Clarke lets out a weary sigh and looks down at herself. Her scrubs are covered with blood, vomit and her own sweat. She feels grimy and uncomfortable. 

Opening her locker she looks at her garment bag. She needs to shower, do her hair, her makeup and get dressed. Even if she’s quick she’ll be late. Clarke thinks about cancelling but decides she needs this night out. Finn is always good company and his easy-going charm has relaxed and cheered her up before. Grabbing her phone, Clarke starts to text Finn, explaining she’ll be late, when she hears the sole of a shoe squeak on the flooring behind her.

Turning around, Clarke sees a bald, stocky man wearing an ill-fitting suit walking towards her. Clarke notes he’s not wearing hospital ID and she doesn’t remember seeing him before.

“I’m sorry, sir. This area is off limits to members of the public.” Clarke informs him.

The man briefly looks her up and down before speaking. “Doctor Clarke Griffin?” He asks, an unsettling smirk spreading across his face.

“Yes.” Clarke replies wearily, turning slightly and half-facing her locker.

“Sorry, Doc” he sneers, unbuttoning his suit jacket and pushing it aside to reveal a large knife strapped to his belt. “Nothing personal” he finishes as he unsheathes the knife and lunges at Clarke.

Clarke grabs the heavy medical textbook from her locker and swings. The blow hits the man in his hand and he lets out a surprised grunt as his knife falls to the floor. Clarke swings two more times, hitting the man in the side of his face. Surprised and hurting the man staggers back as Clarke presses her attack. She swings the textbook again but the man twists at the waist, brings up his arms and blocks Clarke’s attack. He swings his fist downwards, striking the top of Clarke’s wrist. Clarke cries out in pain as her thumb spasms and she drops the book. The man grabs Clarke’s arm and the side of her face, pushing her backwards and slamming her head into the metal lockers behind her. Clarke sinks to the floor.

Clarke blinks slowly as black dots start to appear before her. She feels tired, suddenly finds it hard to focus, but realises she’s starting to lose consciousness. Clarke tries to stand, tries to lift her arms but nothing seems to be working. Clarke sees the man, now an indistinct blur, walk over to retrieve his knife. Her eyelids droop and when she somehow manages to open them again the man is on the floor. She sees a hazy figure kneel next to her and Clarke opens her mouth, tries to ask for help. 

The figure must understand, it simply says, “You’re safe, Clarke.”

Despite the rapidly encroaching darkness and her inability to process thoughts, Clarke knows the figure. Only one person has ever said her name that way, with such reverence.

“Lexa” Clarke sighs, before sinking into oblivion.


	3. Chapter 3

For Lexa, it was love at first sight. She loved Clarke before she even knew what that meant.

**22 years ago.**

“Hi!”

Clarke turned towards the voice, her small hand gripped the handle of her lunchbox tighter, as nerves flooded her body. The girl looked older than her and scary. Her long brunette hair was loose and fell down her back, but it was tangled and wild, with wisps sticking up at odd angles. There was a bruise on her forehead and several adhesive bandages were stuck on her knobby knees. She wore wrinkled dark green shorts and her plain white t-shirt had several dirt and grass stains on it, along with a large rip at the hem. Her white sneakers looked caked in mud. Despite this, the girl's pale green eyes shone with kindness, her face open, understanding and inviting. 

“I'm Lexa” she smiled.

Clarke thought for a second, the girl seemed friendly, friendly than her classmates and her parents had told her to be nice. “I'm Clarke” she said shyly and waited for the teasing to begin.

“Clarke!” Lexa exclaimed, “cool name. I like your dress.” 

Clarke eye’s went wide, surprised at Lexa’s reply. She looked down at herself, she was in stark contrast to Lexa. Her light blue dress was spotless and her black shoes polished so much they shined. Her soft, blonde hair had been placed in a neat ponytail, held in place by a deep red ribbon. She tried to think of something nice to say to Lexa.

“I like your hair. It's long.”

Lexa laughed, which made Clarke smile. A look of confusion crossed Lexa’s face. “Why aren't you playing with the others?” She swung her arm out, indicating the other children running around the playground.

Clarke's smile vanished and she dropped her head, small shoulders curling inwards. 

“They don’t like me” she said softly. “They said I had a boy's name and got angry when Mrs Anders said I was very clever. I got her math questions right.” Clarke finished, voice barely above a whisper as her eyes squeezed shut and her bottom lip started to tremble. Her hands gripped her lunchbox so tightly her knuckles started to turn white.

Clarke felt something gently brush against her wrist. She opened her eyes and saw Lexa’s hand had encircled it.

“Hey, Clarke” Lexa said gently.

Clarke lifted her head and let out a surprised bark of laughter. Lexa had tilted her head, stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes. She smiled when Clarke laughed, her face returning to normal.

“My Mommy and Daddy said I would make friends” Clarke said sadly.

“You have Clarke” Lexa replied sincerely. “I’ll be your friend. Do you want to be mine?” 

“Yes! I want to be your friend. Do you want to play?”

“I do. What do you want to play, Clarke?”

Clarke thought seriously for a moment, before her face lit up. “We can pretend to be princesses and have a tea party.” Her face started to fall as she saw the look of disbelief on Lexa’s face. “We, we don’t have to” she said quickly.

Lexa rolled her head from side to side before replying. “I’ve never played that before. Wouldn’t you rather go on an adventure?”

“What adventure?”

“We could pretend to hunt dragons!” 

Clarke gasped, “Dragons eat princesses! Princes, or, or, knights have to save them”

Lexa squinted at Clarke. “Why? Why don’t the princesses save themselves?”

“Ummmm, they just don’t” Clarke shrugged.

Lexa took a step towards Clarke. “Clarke, if you got caught by a dragon would you wait around for someone to save you, or would you try to save yourself?”

Clarke looked up at Lexa and took in the serious expression on the other girls face. Clarke’s face hardened in determination. “I’d try to save myself!”

 

“Children! Recess is over! Time to come back in!” Mrs Anders called. As her class started to gather around her, she saw Clarke Griffin running round the playground, laughing as she swung her hand back and forth. Lexa Woods, arms held high in the air, mouth wide open as she roared, stomped after Clarke. Clarke spun around, hitting Lexa with her imaginary weapon and Lexa fell to the ground, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth, which sent Clarke into a fit of giggles.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Clarke slowly opens her eyes. She is bathed in soft light and she feels warm and incredibly comfortable. Clarke succumbs to a moment of foolishness, thinking she has died, before scoffing at herself and sitting up. She finds herself in a bed, a very large, very comfortable bed. Looking around the room, Clarke notes the furniture, modern with bold colors and sleek lines. She spots a glass of water on the nightstand next to two white pills. Clarke picks one up, looks at the imprint code and recognises it as a moderately strong opioid. She reaches up and softly runs her fingers over the bump on the side of her head. It’s less painful than she would have thought. Clarke swallows one of the pills, sighing as the refreshingly cold water slips down her throat.

Pushing the sheets aside, the softest she's ever felt, Clarke swings her legs over the side of the bed, sinking her bare feet into the thick carpet. She notices that she's wearing grey sweatpants and a white tank top. Despite being a little tight, clearly made for someone without Clarke's curves, they are clean, comfortable and smell faintly of honeysuckle. Clarke looks at the alarm clock, surprised and slightly concerned when she sees it's 22 minutes past 9. Wherever she is, she's probably been here all night.

Standing up, Clarke spots her scrubs, washed and neatly folded on an armchair by the nightstand. She crosses the room and throws open the curtains, gasping at the sight before her. Through the floor to ceiling windows, Arkadia stretches out beneath her and Clarke briefly wonders just how high up she is. She stands there for a few minutes, just taking in the view.

Clarke glances around the bedroom, trying to locate her phone. She needs to call the police and Finn is probably worried. As she stands up from looking underneath the bed, Clarke suddenly freezes, her memories rushing back in crystal clarity. Lexa. Lexa was there when she was attacked. Clarke remembers Lexa gently shaking her awake throughout the night, asking if she could hear her, if Clarke knew her own name, if she knew who Lexa was and if she felt nauseous. She remembers answering Lexa’s questions and, touching the bump again, feels glad that she doesn’t have a concussion. The relief lasts a second before Clarke’s jaw tightens and she marches out the room.

Clarke casts her eyes over the large, beautifully appointed living room she finds herself in. Stopping briefly to look through a large glass door, Clarke confirms there is no one on the balcony, or down the hallway leading to the exit. Through an open door, directly opposite the bedroom, Clarke sees a large dining table and the edges of kitchen cabinets. She heads towards the door, speeding up slightly when she hears the scrape of a chair being pulled back. Stepping into the doorway, Clarke’s gaze immediately finds the kitchen’s sole occupant. Lexa Woods, sitting on a stool in front of a kitchen island, looks up from the tablet she was reading and Clarke freezes.

There had been numerous times over the years when Clarke had wondered if she’d overestimated Lexa’s beauty, thought that reality could never match the image in her head. Looking across at Lexa now, Clarke realises just how wrong she’d been. Lexa’s pale green eyes, seemingly changing color from green, to blue, to grey depending on the light, or her mood, stare softly at her. Her once wild hair is now perfectly tamed. Straightened and luxurious, it has been pulled back from her face in a braid. Clarke’s eyes flick down to trace the regal line of Lexa’s jaw, before ending on full, pinkish red lips and she is unable to stop the memory of them moving against her own, the feeling of them sliding down her neck. Lexa looks immaculate, dressed in tailored black trousers, a fitted black shirt and a red tie. 

A torrent of emotions assault Clarke. Anger, Lexa had just disappeared all those years ago. Joy, Lexa has come back. Surprise, Lexa was casually sitting in front of her. Sadness, all the time they had lost. Anticipation, what will Lexa do or say. Interest, where has Lexa been? Annoyance, at herself, it doesn’t matter where Lexa had been. Clarke stands there paralysed, as Lexa speaks.

“Clarke, good morning. I’m glad you could finally join me. I was beginning to suspect you still slept until noon.”

Clarke takes in the smirk on Lexa’s face, the amused glint in her eye, the sarcastic tone of her voice and the casual reference to their past. Clarke settles on anger.


	4. Chapter 4

Lexa knows she shouldn’t but she can’t resist. “Clarke, good morning. I’m glad you could finally join me. I was beginning to suspect you still slept until noon.”

She sees Clarke’s eye’s narrow, the hard glint in them, and her jaw clench. Clarke had always wore her heart on her sleeve, been open to her emotions and Lexa wasn’t surprised this hadn’t changed. As Clarke advances on her, Lexa prepares herself for the outburst.

“What the hell, Lexa! What happened to you? Where have you been? Why did you leave? Who was that guy? Why were you there last night? Where am I? How did I get here? What is going on and where is my damn phone!?” Clarke slams her palm onto the kitchen island in front of Lexa, emphasising her anger.

Lexa swallows and takes a breath before replying. “It’s good to see you, Clar-”

“No!” Clarke, cuts her off. “No, you don’t get to... Just tell me what’s going on.”

Lexa nods and motions to a kitchen stool. “Please.”

Clarke looks at the stool, then back at Lexa. Although her shoulders relax slightly as she sits, the anger and confusion is still evident on her face.

“How’s your head?”

Clarke fumes at Lexa’s delay in answering her questions. “It’s fine. I don’t have a concussion.”

Lexa nods, accepting Clarke’s diagnosis. She reaches into her pocket and places Clarke's phone in front of her. Clarke glances at it and, seeing that it has been switched off, goes to turn it back on. She stops when Lexa begins to talk. 

“You’re at The Tower, this is my apartment. I brought you here after I wheeled you out of the hospital. Where I’ve been and what happened to me is a long story. One that is unimportant right one.” Clarke opens her mouth but Lexa carries on, not letting her interrupt.

“You’re in danger, Clarke.” The anger begins to fall from Clarke’s face, replaced with confusion and disbelief. “The man who attacked you at the hospital has been hired to kill you.”

“Why?”

“You tell me, Clarke. Something must have happened recently, something out of the ordinary.”

Lexa sees the realisation spread across Clarke’s face. “I saw someone get murdered.” Her voice is surprising strong, worryingly matter of fact.

Lexa bites back the surprised gasp that threatens to escape her throat. Her eyes fill with sympathy as she reaches out a hand to Clarke. “I’m sor-”

“It’s fine. I’ve seen death before.” Clarke’s look of annoyance stops Lexa, who drops her hand. The concern falls from her face as she realises Clarke doesn’t want her sympathy. “It was a convenience store robbery, I was in an aisle at the back. A girl came in, she demanded the money from the register. The guy, he owned the store, he gave her the money but she shot him. I was there, I tried to save him.” Clarke finishes robotically. 

Lexa gives her a quick look, Clarke’s face has become impassive, a distant look in her eye, as if she was telling a story, something that wasn’t real, or had happened to someone else. Lexa feels the concern and worry squirm in her chest, Clarke has obviously not dealt with the trauma yet. Knowing that Clarke would react badly if she said anything now, Lexa presses on.

“You called the police.”

“Of course. I told them what happened, spoke to a Detective and gave them the girls description. They said they’d be in touch.” Clarke turns to Lexa. “It doesn’t make sense, the girl didn’t even know I was there and if she… Wait, how did you know he’d been hired to kill me?”

Lexa drops her head, unable to meet Clarke’s gaze. “That’s… the important thing is we make sure you’re safe. We can leave Arkadia now, I have-”

“Lexa!” Lexa raises her head to meet Clarke eyes, strength and determination shining brightly in them. “I’m not leaving Arkadia. Someone attacked me, I’m going to the police.”

“Clarke, I’m not sure you can trust the poli-”

“Stop, just stop!” Clarke pushes herself off the stool and steps away from Lexa. “12 years, Lexa! You left, you didn’t tell me, you didn’t say goodbye, you left a stupid note! You can’t just show-”

The ringing of several telephones in different rooms stops Clarke’s tirade. Both women look at the phone on the kitchen wall and then at each other. Lexa seems frozen on her stool. Clarke huffs and snatches up the phone.

“What!” Her expression of anger quickly changes to confusion. “Yes, this is Clarke.” Lexa’s eyes go wide as she jumps off the stool and hastens to Clarke’s side.

“Miss Clarke? What package? I don’t understa-”

“Clarke, please.” Lexa holds her hand out, asking for the phone. Clarke begrudgingly hands it over, her confusion somehow growing even greater when she hears Lexa speak.

“Hi! This is Miss Clark.” Lexa says happily, breezily. “Sorry about my friend, she’s such an airhead.” Clarke’s mouth drops open, partly in surprise, partly at the insult. “You have my package! That’s awesome! I’ll be right down to pick it up. Thanks sooo much.” 

Lexa hangs up the phone and turns to Clarke. Clarke slowly shakes her head. “What the hell?”

“I need to go to the front desk. Clarke, please don’t leave. Stay here until I get back.”

“I think I should-”

“Please! Just a few minutes. Please, Clarke.”

Clarke sighs heavily, her shoulders sagging as some of the anger leaves her. Her voice, however, remains firm. “When you get back, I’m leaving.”

Lexa nods and, as she walks past Clarke, Clarke sees the neat french braid with a red ribbon woven into it. Clarke’s heart clenches, she begins to say something but stops, unsure if she wants to know why Lexa still has the ribbon, why she still wears it. The moment passes as Lexa quickly leaves the suite.

With Lexa gone, Clarke heads to the bedroom and changes into her scrubs, marveling at how clean and soft they are. She moves back into the living room and starts to look around the apartment, quickly realising that, while impeccably furnished, there are no signs that anyone actually lives here. No photographs or pictures on the walls, no knickknacks or keepsakes. The only thing that looks like it wasn’t picked out and carefully placed by an interior designer, is a book on the coffee table. Clarke picks it up, noting the bookmark as she looks at the title, ‘Girl in the Blue Coat’. Clarke smiles unknowingly, it seems like Lexa still reads stories with strong, female protagonists. 

Clarke switches on her phone and sees several texts from both Raven and Finn. Raven’s texts ask how the date is going, congratulate her on staying out all night and ask how Finn was. Finn’s inform Clarke he's at the restaurant, ask where she is and if she's alright before expressing disappointment that she couldn't make it. He asks that she call him so he knows she’s OK.

Clarke brings up her contacts, scrolls down to Finn’s name but stops when she hears the door open. Lexa enters the room, holding a large, flat box. She approaches Clarke, holding the box out. Clarke immediately spots the address label and the name on it.

“Alicia Clark.” She says softly, looking up at Lexa.

“It's one of my aliases. I… I like the name Alicia.” Lexa replies, bowing her head.

Biting back the question of why Lexa has aliases and not wanting to even think about the ‘Clark’ surname, Clarke takes the box from her. Lifting the lid her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she sees the object inside. It looks something like a bulletproof vest, but as she runs her fingers over it, Clarke is surprised at the silky feel of the material, how soft and pliable it is and how it’s no thicker or heavier than a sleeveless top. She looks at Lexa, eyes seeking an explanation.

“It’s a ballistic vest.” Lexa deadpans. 

“Thanks, Lexa.” Clarke sneers. “It looks nothing like the ones the police or the army use.”

“It’s not.” Lexa agrees, with a hint of a smile. “I had it specially made. It’s comprised of carbon nanotubes that have been-” 

Clarke huffs loudly. “I need to go.” When Lexa doesn’t take the offered box, Clarke drops it on the table. “I told you I was leaving when you got back. I’m going to the police, they can find this guy. I don’t need you Lexa, you shouldn’t have come back.” Clarke’s says, her voice flat and emotionless. 

Clarke starts to walk around Lexa, who takes a step, blocking Clarke. Clarke feels her anger return, fuelled by pain and resentment.

“Get out of my way” she spits out through gritted teeth. “You think you can come back into my life after 12 years and tell me what to do? You think I’ll just run off with you? That I’ll forgive you? What’s your plan, Lexa? Are you going to keep me here against my will?” Clarke shakes her head in disgust. “I’d forgotten how much of an arrogant bitch you are.” 

Lexa’s head comes up. Her eye’s filled with something so hard, so chilling, that Clarke takes a step back as she feels a shiver run down her spine. The look is gone as quickly as it appeared and Clarke wonders if she'd imagined it. Lexa steps to one side.

“I apologise, Clarke.” Lexa replies contritely. “You’re free to leave.”

Clarke walks down the hallway and opens the door, pausing as she steps through. She looks back at Lexa, straight backed with her hands clasped in front of her.

“Goodbye.” Clarke says with finality, shutting the door behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

**24 years ago.**

“Alexandra, come here”.

Lexa put down her Geography book and walked towards her father, who was standing in the doorway of the library.

“Follow me,” he said simply as he turned and walked briskly down the hallway. Lexa turned, waved goodbye to her tutor and ran to catch up with him.

He led her through the west wing, into the main house and down the connecting corridor to the east wing. Throwing open a large wooden door, he ushered Lexa into the courtyard.

Lexa smiled as she stepped through. She liked the courtyard, it was quiet and pretty. One of the maids had told Lexa that Lexa’s mommy had planted the flower garden when Lexa was still in her tummy. Lexa had taken it upon herself to make sure the flowers were watered and cared for, the gardeners had even given her a small watering can when she struggled to lift their much larger ones.

There was a man standing in the courtyard, someone Lexa didn’t recognise. She followed her Father as he approached the man.

“Mr Woods.” He bowed his head as her addressed her Father. He looked down at Lexa, surprise flickered across his face. “Is this you daughter?”

“It is.” Her Father confirmed. The man’s confusion turned to worry.

“Mr Woods, I didn’t realise your daughter was so young. If I’d have know, I would have, regretfully, declined your offer.”

Lexa saw her Father’s face harden, she felt sorry for the man, he was in trouble.

“Why?”

“She’s too young, sir.”

“My daughter is 5 years old.” Lexa squared her shoulders and clasped her hands behind her back, she felt like she needed to make a good impression. “More than old enough to begin your training.”

The man shook his head. “Mr Woods, you know how demanding my regime is. A child twice her age would find it difficult, I’ve had teenagers unable to-”

“You will begin tomorrow. You will not change your regime, or go easy on Alexandra. Take a moment to introduce yourself, my men will show you out.” He turned and walked back into the house. 

Lexa looked up at the man, he looked upset and scared. He looked down at Lexa and gave her a weak smile. “Alexandra, you will call me Sensei, it means teacher. I’m going to teach you how to fight.”

 

Lexa waited patiently as her Father inserted his key into the lock. He turned it and Lexa heard a clack as the deadbolt slid backwards. Her father reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a small, plastic keycard. He swiped it through the reader, a loud buzz signalled the magnetic locks had released and the heavy steel door swung open. 

Lexa’s Father motioned for her to walk through the door. She did and found herself in a small concrete corridor. Overhead lights provided ample illumination and Lexa saw the corridor opened into a large room. She looked back when she heard another loud buzz, her Father had shut the door behind them. He placed his hand on her shoulder and nodded towards the room. Lexa walked slowly forwards.

Looking around, Lexa took in the steel cabinets lining the walls. Her eye’s widened as, through the steel mesh covering the cabinets, she saw guns, lots of guns. When she finally tore her eyes from them, she noticed the workbench in the center of the room, several guns had been placed on it. 

Behind the workbench, Lexa saw a tall, thin man. He regarded her with cold eyes and a bored expression. Lexa recognised him, she had seen him around the house, seen him talking to her Father.

“Alexandra,” his voice matched his expression. “My name is Cassius. I’m going to teach you about firearms.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

**22 years ago.**

Clarke stumbled down the stairs, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes as she yawned. She had woken up, mouth dry, tongue fuzzy, and headed to the kitchen to get a drink. As she walked down the hallway, she heard the voices of her mommy and daddy coming from the living room.

“She said her name was Lexa?” Clarke smiled at hearing Lexa’s name. 

“Yes. Abby, she wouldn’t stop talking about her. She really likes her”

“Lexa Woods?” Clarke’s face scrunched up in confusion. Why did her mommy sound scared.

“Yes, Lexa Woods. I spoke to Mrs Anders, Clarke was playing with her at recess.”

“Jake, we have to sto-”

“Abby, she’s just a kid. She’s Clarke’s friend.”

“Do you really want our daughter anywhere near Titus Woods.”

“I… I don’t want to treat a child differently just because of their parents. I think she’s Clarke’s only friend. I’m not… I don’t… I’m not sure what the right thing to do is.” Clarke’s face fell, her daddy sounded sad. She barely heard her mommy, her voice was so quiet.

“It’s not fair on Lexa, but we need to protect our daughter. Clarke will make other friends, we need to tell her to stay away from Lex-”

Clarke rushed into the living room, tears streaming from her eyes as she shouted “No! Lexa’s my friend! She’s nice and she taught me how to hunt dragons. Why don’t you like her!”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

As she walks to the police station, Clarke sends Raven a quick text, telling her friend she didn’t meet Finn, had a crazy night and they need to talk. She briefly contemplates sending Finn a text, before deciding to call him.

“Clarke,” Finn says as Clarke imagines his boyish smile. “I’m glad you called. I was worried about you.”

Clarke pauses, monetarily unsure what to tell Finn. The truth seems crazy, their relationship too new to tell him everything that happened. “Did you hear about the car crash yesterday?”

“Yeah, it was bad.” Finn replies. “I heard there were a dozen cars, lots of people hurt… oh, Clarke. I’m sorry.” 

Clarke smiles weakly, touched by his concern. “Thanks. I’ve never seen the ED so full or so busy. By the time we saw everyone I was tired and I forgot-”

“Clarke, it’s OK” Finn rushes to reassure her. “You were probably exhausted.”

“Yeah, I wasn't really thinking. I just went home and fell asleep. I only remembered our date when I saw your texts. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise, you were saving lives. You’re amazing.”

Clarke’s smile strengthens. “Thanks Finn.”

They share a comfortable silence, Clarke letting Finn’s kind words cheer her up. Finn happy that Clarke is OK.

“So,” Finn says. “Do you want to reschedule last night? I’d like to see you.”

“Yeah, I need to take care of some things, check my shifts at the hospital. Can I call you back when I know I’m free?”

“You can call me anytime.” Finn says flirtatiously, which causes Clarke to smile. They exchange goodbyes as Clarke approaches the police station.

 

Clarke turns her head sideways and looks at the drab walls of the interview room. She looks up at the security camera nestled in the corner, across to the two-way mirror, down at the table bolted to the floor and, finally, to the door as it opens.

“Doctor Griffin, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” Detective Echo Winters says as she enters. She sits opposite Clarke and opens the manila folder she was carrying. “Have you remembered anything else about the homicide?”

“No, I’m not here about that.”

“I see,” the Detective responds, closing the casefile and leaning forwards. “Then how can I help you?”

“I was attacked last night.” Clarke feels proud her voice doesn’t break. 

Echo’s eye’s widen, she gives Clarke a quick look of sympathy before flipping open her notebook. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“It was in the locker room at Ark Memorial around 8 o’clock. A man entered, he asked me my name and attacked me when I said I was Clarke Griffin. I managed to fight him off but hit my head. I think I must have sustained a concussion because the next thing I remember is waking up this morning.” Clarke finishes, her voice steady.

Detective Winters nods as she writes in her notebook. “Can you describe this man?”

Clarke points at the notebook. “Can I?”

Echo flips to a blank page, slides it across the table and hands Clarke her pen. She watches as Clarke sketches his likeness. Opening the casefile, Echo looks at a similar sketch of a young woman as he compares it to the one Clarke just drew. 

“If you get tired of being a doctor, you have a future as a composite artist.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

The Detective’s smile does not reach her eyes. “I'll put out an APB, we'll find him Miss Griffin. I'm going to have two officers drive you home, they'll stay outside your building, just as a precaution.”

“Thank you, Detective.” Clarke says gratefully as Echo leaves the room.

 

Clarke looks up as the door opens. Two men in police uniforms step into the interview room.

“Miss Griffin, I’m Officer Daniels, this is my partner, Officer Boone. We’re going to drive you home. Are you ready to leave?”

Clarke nods, grateful to be finally going home.

The two officers escort Clarke to their police cruiser. As they pull out of the station’s carpark and begin their journey to Clarke’s apartment, Clarke’s mind starts to wander.

She thinks about a nice, long bath and imagines the warm water soothing her tired muscles. Pictures herself in her pyjamas, eating a pot of ice-cream with Raven while they watch crappy TV. Smiles as she envisions sharing drinks with Octavia, Bellamy, Wells, Jasper and Monty. Wonders what her Mom will make for dinner on Sunday. Feels her heart beat faster and her skin flush as she visualises being with Finn.

Clarke is so determined to think about happy things, she gets mad at herself when her thoughts inevitably turn to Lexa. She plays the morning over in her head and grudgingly admits to herself that the first thing she felt when she saw Lexa wasn’t anger, it was longing. 

Thinking about her words to Lexa, she briefly regrets their harshness before remembering that Lexa had avoided all her questions, had not given Clarke the courtesy of an explanation of why she had left, or where she had been for the last 12 years.

As Clarke's anger begins to build, she imagines grabbing Lexa, shaking her and demanding answers. She sees the sorrow on Lexa's face as apologies fall from her mouth, hears Lexa gasp as Clarke’s teeth bite down on her bottom lip, feels Lexa’s skin erupt with goosebumps as she runs her hands along Lexa's-

Clarke startles awake from her daydream, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. Confusion overtakes her as she looks out the window and sees they are driving through a small industrial estate, an abandoned one judging by the state of the buildings and lack of people. Clarke feels the dread creep through her body.

“Officers?” She says conversationally, not giving away her fear. “Where are we going?” 

Neither speaks, but Boone looks back at her and gives her a smirk. He lets out a mocking laugh when Clarke desperately tries to unlock the door. She slams on the window and the metal grating separating her from the officers, nothing moves, Clarke is trapped.

The police cruiser stops in front of a large factory, long fallen into disrepair. The officers calmly exit the car and Boone reaches down to open the back door. The instant Clarke sees it move she kicks out, the door flies open slamming into Boone and, as he staggers backwards, Clarke leaps from the car and runs.

Clarke gets ten steps before she feels strong arms encircle her waist. She reaches back, grabs their groin and squeezes with all her strength. The arms fall from her as Daniels collapses to the ground, whimpering in pain.

Clarke starts to run again, but something slams into her. She hits the ground hard, bites back a yelp of pain and flips herself over, ready to continue fighting. She freezes when she sees Boone standing over her, gun pointed at her head. Clarke shoots him a look of pure rage as she waits for the inevitable.

A loud roar splits the air. Clarke and Boone both turn, just in time to see the motorcycle speeding towards them. Boone leaps to one side, Daniels is not so lucky. Staggering to his feet, his doesn’t have time to move. The cyclist, clad head to toe in leather, skids the bike and slams the back of it into Daniels, sending him flying through the air.

Boone jumps to his feet and raises his gun, but the rider is on him. Leaping from their bike, they grab Boone’s wrist, pushing his hand up as they spin around, their back now facing him. With a sickening crunch, they swiftly bring Boone’s elbow down on their shoulder, breaking his radius bone. Still holding Boone’s wrist, the cyclist twists their upper body, throwing Boone over their hip before kicking him in the side of the head. 

The rider walks towards Clarke, removing their helmet. Clarke is unsurprised when Lexa looks down at her.

“Let me help you, Clarke.” Lexa all but commands as she reaches out her hand. Clarke looks at Lexa, her face impassive, at the offered hand, then at Lexa’s eyes. Despite all their years apart, Clarke realises she can still see Lexa’s emotions hidden deep within them. Clarke nods and takes Lexa’s hand.


	6. Chapter 6

**22 years ago.**

She fell to the floor, her hand wiping blood from her split lip. She didn’t cry out, she had learned how pointless that was. She looked up at the Sensei, saw her blood dripping from his fist. She looked at his face and remembered he had once looked kind. Now he wore the same tired, resigned, uncaring expression he had had for the last year. 

Lexa got back to her feet, bent her knees slightly and raised her fists. “Again,” the Sensei said and Lexa attacked.

She unleashed a flurry of strikes, lashing out with both fists as fast as she could. The Sensei blocked them with his forearms, or just swatted her fists aside. Lexa stepped back, took a breath and swung again. The Sensei stepped towards her, grabbed her forearm and stopped the attack. At the same time he reached out with his right hand, grabbed her bicep, twisted his body and sent her flying over his hip. Lexa hit the ground, hard.

The Sensei took a few steps backwards as Lexa slowly got to her feet. “Again,” he said.

 

Lexa grimaced as the salted beef touched the cut on her lip. She quickly masked her expression, but her Father, seated next to her at the head of the large dining table, noticed.

He put down his knife and fork as his head turned to Lexa. “Do you know why I’m doing this, Alexandra?”

Lexa looked up at him, at his hard face and his uncompromising eyes. “No, Father.”

“I’m doing this to protect you. I'm doing this to make you strong. Our family has enemies, people who wish to destroy us. You must learn to defend yourself, Alexandra, you must learn to defend this family. If someone attacks you, attacks us, you must fight back. You must hurt your enemy so badly, demoralize them so thoroughly, they will never think about attacking you again.”

He picked up his knife and fork and continued to eat his dinner.

 

“Clarke!” Lexa shouted as she ran towards her friend. She stopped quickly when she saw the look on Clarke’s face.

“Clarke?” She said with concern as children rushed past her, not wanting to miss a second of recess.

Clarke looked up at her. Lexa felt sick when she saw the water in Clarke’s eyes. “I'm not allowed to play with you. My Mommy and Daddy said I can't be your friend.” Clarke began to sob as the tears fell from her eyes.

Lexa’s stomach twisted violently and she felt a dull pain start to bloom in her chest. A large, hard ball seemed to have appeared in her throat and she felt her eyes start to prickle. Lexa quickly closed them and took a deep breath. She wouldn't cry, she was a Woods and they did not cry, she was stronger than that. Lexa pushed down her emotions as she spoke.

“Please don't cry.” She reached out and gently rubbed Clarke's arm. “You'll make other friends, Clarke. Friends your Mommy and Daddy will let you play with. I'm sorry you can't be my friend anymore, but I'll always be yours.”

Clarke threw her arms around Lexa and sobbed into her neck. Lexa felt her resolve break and a tear fell down her cheek. The two girls held onto each other with everything they had.

 

Clarke looked over at Lexa. She was sitting under a tree, pulling up tufts of grass as she looked at the children on the swings. Clarke looked back down at her drawing, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as she worked on it. It had been an entire week since she had played with Lexa, and Clarke thought if her Mommy and Daddy saw her drawing, saw how hard she had worked on it, they'd let her play with Lexa again.

“Hi!” 

Clarke looked up and saw three boys standing next to the table. The one who had spoken had a wide, friendly smile, deep brown eyes and a kind face. His friend had long scruffy brown hair, a narrow face and a goofy smile. The third boy smiled shyly at Clarke as he waved at her. His dark hair had been neatly combed and his eyes shone with such kindness and understanding, such goodness, that Clarke fell a little bit in love with him.

The first boy continued, “I’m Wells, this is Jasper and Monty.” 

Monty waved again as Jasper blurted out, “I’m five!”

Clarke giggled, “Me too.” 

“We’re in Miss Gold’s class. Who’s your teacher?” Wells asked.

“Mrs Anders.” Clarke took a second. “I’m Clarke.”

“Hi, Clarke.” The boys replied happily. Clarke felt a surge of gratitude they hadn’t made fun of her.

“Can I see your drawing?” Monty’s eyes flicked down to the piece of paper in front of Clarke.

Clarke smiled and nodded. Monty stepped closer as Clarke turned the paper around. The boys looked down and Clarke smiled as their eyes went wide. They started to talk over each other, excitedly complementing the drawing. It depicted a large dragon, wings spread wide, smoke curling from it’s nostrils as it stood in front of two small figures. The two figures, one blonde and one brunette, held swords aloft, ready to fight the beast.

As the boys began to calm down, Wells turned and said, “We’re going to play on the jungle gym. Come with us.”

Jasper and Monty nodded in agreement. Clarke looked at the drawing, then back up at their eager faces. They wanted to play with her and she didn’t want to disappoint them. She could always finish her drawing later. Clarke nodded and smiled as she rose from the chair.

 

Clarke laughed as Wells blew another raspberry on his arm. She looked over and saw Jasper and Monty were still on the swings. Wells finished his move and Clarke looked down at the Checkers board. They had been excited to learn that they both knew how to play. The other children had called the game boring, so Clarke and Wells often played each other at recess. Clarke slid her piece across the board and looked back at the swings.

Jasper was still on the seat but had stopped swinging. He clung tightly to the ropes and looked on the verge of tears. Monty was sitting on the ground, holding his arm and looking over at the swing he was just on. Ryan Henry reached out a hand and stopped the swings momentum. Clarke leapt from her seat and ran towards the scene.

“Monty!” She cried out as she dropped down next to him. Monty turned to look at her, tears fell from his eyes as he looked down. Clarke saw the cut on his elbow, the blood flowing down his arm and jumped to her feet.

“What did you do!” She shouted as she advanced on Ryan. 

Ryan was 9 years old and big for his age. He towered over Clarke. If Clarke felt any fear, she didn’t show it.

“I want to play on the swing. Go away”.

“No. Monty was on the swing, you ca-”

Ryan took a step forward, eyes narrowed and teeth bared in anger. He reached out his arm, Clarke startled, stepped back and shut her eyes. She opened them again when she heard a cry of pain. Ryan was on the floor. Lexa was sitting on his chest, raining punches down on him.

“Don’t touch her!” Lexa screamed as teachers ran towards them.

 

Jake Griffin looked up as the doorbell rang. Locking his laptop, he stood up, left his office and made his way to the front door. Through the frosted glass he could see the hazy outline of a child. He opened the door and looked down at the small girl standing in front of him. Her long brunette hair fell down her back and neatly framed her face. She wore a belted, forest green sundress and white slip-on shoes. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her as she looked up at him with nervous green eyes and a serious expression.

“Hello,” Jake smiled, trying to reassure the girl. “Are you a friend of Clarke’s?”

“Hello, Mr Griffin” the girl replied, doing her best to seem very grown up. “I’m Lexa Woods, I was hoping I could speak to you.”

Jake’s smile faltered for a second before he stepped aside. “Come in, Lexa.”

Jake led Lexa to the Griffin’s kitchen. “Would you like a drink?” 

“No thank you, Sir.” Lexa replied as she stood in the doorway. 

Jake took a seat at the kitchen table and indicated the one opposite him. He smiled when Lexa’s aura of maturity slipped as she struggled to sit down. The chair was a touch too high and Lexa ended up jumping onto it.

“What did you want to talk to me about, Lexa?”

“I was hoping you would let Clarke be my friend again.” Lexa said quietly.

Jake’s face fell. He had agreed with his wife, they couldn’t have Clarke anywhere near Titus Woods, but that didn’t mean he liked what they had to do.

“Lexa,” He said softly and waited until Lexa looked at him. He wanted to make sure she knew he was being sincere. “It’s not your fault that we told Clarke she couldn’t spend time with you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know,” Lexa replied. “It’s my Father. People are scared of him. This isn’t the first time this has happened Mr Griffin, but this is the first time I’ve done this.”

Lexa sounded defeated, resigned to her fate. Jake felt for the little girl, trying so hard to be grown up.

“You’re very smart, Lexa. How old are you?”

“Seven.”

“You’re very mature for your age. I’m sorry, Lexa, I’m not sure what we can do. As you said, my wife and I are scared of your Dad and we don’t want him near our daughter.”

Jake saw the hope flash in Lexa’s eyes, she leaned forward. “Clarke, you, Mrs Griffin, none of you will ever have to meet my Father. Clarke and I can play at school, or here, we don’t have to go to my house!”

Jake sighed, “What happens when we wants to meet your new friend?”

“He won’t, Sir. My Father doesn’t care about that. He’s only interested in what I’m learning. If he asks about Clarke, I’ll tell him we’re not friends! I won’t see her again!”

Jake rubbed his forehead. The girl clearly cared for Clarke, and Clarke for her considering the tantrum she threw when he and Abby told her she couldn’t see Lexa anymore.

“Lexa, tell me what happened yesterday.” Jake saw the hope dim in Lexa’s eyes and the water start to appear. He saw her shoulders slump and her head drop.

“I saw Ryan push Monty off the swing. Clarke run over, I… I thoug-” Lexa took a breath as she composed herself. “I thought he was going to hurt her. My Father told me that if anyone… I got scared. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I thought he was going to hurt her.”

“It’s OK, Lexa.” Jake reached over and squeezed her hand as the tears started to fall. He reached into his pocket and handed his handkerchief to Lexa. “The teachers at school said Ryan started it and Clarke told me you protected her. I’m glad you were there for Clarke, but you shouldn’t hurt people. There are better ways to solve problems.”

“I’m sorry” she said sadly as she wiped her eyes.

“That’s OK. We can’t change what happened and there’s nothing we can do now, but we can promise we'll be better next time. Do you understand?”

Lexa nodded.

“I’ll have to talk to Clarke’s Mom.” he said softly. “I’m not promising anything, but we’ll think about letting Clarke spend time with you.”

Lexa’s smile was sad, weak but genuine. “Thank you Mr Griffin. Thank you for your time, I should go.” 

Lexa hopped off the chair and quickly headed to the door. Jake started to follow. While Lexa had obviously had no problem getting to the Griffin house, Jake felt uneasy about letting her walk home.

Jake stopped when he entered the hallway. Lexa was frozen with her hand on the front door, staring at Clarke who was walking down the stairs. Clarke approached Lexa and, reaching up, gripped the end of her red ribbon. She pulled, unravelled the material and carefully wrapped it around Lexa’s wrist. 

“My Mommy read me a story. The princess gave the knight a present for protecting her. Thank you, Lexa.” Clarke leaned forward and softly kissed Lexa on the cheek. They smiled at each other, jumping when Jake cleared his throat.

“Lexa, do you need a ride home?”

“No thank you, Mr Griffin.” Lexa said opening the door. “Thank you for talking to me.” The door closed and she was gone.

 

“Lexa! 

Lexa turned as Clarke ran up to her. Clarke’s eye shone and her smile was the biggest Lexa had ever seen. 

“We can be friends again!”  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Clarke walks into the apartment. She can just about hear Lexa shut the door behind them. Clarke finds herself in the living room. She looks around, not entirely sure how she got there and jumps at the sudden movement when Lexa enters her field of view. She feels hot and shrugs off her jacket. Clarke wonders where she is, before remembering she’s in Lexa’s apartment. There’s a bed and Clarke feels tired. 

As she stumbles to the bedroom, she hears a voice in her head, her own voice. She tells herself she’s in shock. The murder, the attempts on her life, even Lexa’s reappearance have caused an acute stress reaction. She knows she’s strong and there’s a very good chance this will resolve itself with time, but right now, she needs rest.

Clarke plops down on the edge of the bed, her strength suddenly gone. She can’t find the energy to swing her legs up onto the bed and lie down. Clarke’s head starts to fall forwards but she stops it’s descent when Lexa kneels in front of her.

Clarke remembers a little girl. A laughing, happy girl. A sad, upset girl. An emotional girl. As the years passed and the girl grew up, she began to hide her emotions behind an impassive, stoic mask and to most people she seemed cold, uncaring. It was an impression the girl did nothing to correct, on the contrary, she encouraged it, she lied. Clarke believed that the girl thought if enough people assumed she was an uncaring robot, she would become one. The problem was that the girl did care, she cared too much. She cared deeply, with every atom of her body and with an intensity she sometimes found overwhelming. 

Only one person had ever noticed the girls deception, had seen the micro expressions cross her face and the emotion shine in her eyes. Looking down at the girl now, Clarke realises nothing has changed. Lexa’s outward appearance is a detached calmness, but Clarke sees the truth. The miniscule tightening of her jaw, the bob of her throat as she swallows and the way her eyes flit slowly across Clarke's face. Lexa is worried about her.

She sees Lexa unlace the sneaker on her right foot, feels Lexa’s hand gently grip her lower calf as she lifts Clarke’s leg and pulls off the shoe. She waits as Lexa does the same for the left sneaker and puts them both by the nightstand. Through the fog, Clarke remembers something.

“You undressed me last night.”

Lexa looks up at Clarke and nods. “I asked you if it was OK, you said it was. You weren’t really in a position to give consent, but I thought you’d prefer to wake up wearing something clean. I’m sorry if I overstepped or made you feel uncomfortable.”

Clarke slowly shakes her head. “I wouldn’t have wanted to wake up wearing those scrubs. Thank you.”

Lexa nods and looks down. Clarke feels Lexa’s hands on her calves again. As Lexa slowly rises to her feet, she swings Clarke’s legs onto the bed and gently presses on Clarke shoulder, pushing her down onto the wonderfully soft mattress. As Clarke closes her eyes, the last thing she sees is Lexa standing over her.

 

Lexa closes the door as she leaves the bedroom. She’d seen men twice Clarke’s size, trained soldiers, go through something similar. She had seen some of them crack. She knows how strong Clarke was, was positive she was still that strong and was certain Clarke would recover. 

Lexa thinks about her next move. If she can convince Clarke to leave, the Arkadia PD won't be a problem. If she can't, the police officers have at least been sidelined for now, their wounds will need medical attention and they won’t be in any fit state to launch another attack. Lexa’s sure they weren't contractors, just dirty cops ordered to carry out the hit. She reminds herself to have a word with them later, to find out who gave them the order, which might shed light on the contracts owner. 

Lexa considers the more immediate threat, the man at the hospital. It's obvious he knew about the contract and he needs to be removed, quickly. Lexa takes out her phone and dials.

“Graves Personal Security. Anya Hunter speaking.” The voice is blunt, on just the right side of businesslike to not cause offence.

“It’s Lexa.”

For a few seconds there is nothing but silence. When the voice speaks again, it is ever so slightly warmer. “It’s been a long time. It must be something important.”

“It is. I’m in Arkadia, I have an associate carrying out a job, I need to know where they are.”

“You’re in Arkadia?” The voice sounds surprised and hurt.

“Anya.” Lexa impatiently barks. She hears a sigh through the receiver.

“You could find this out yourself, Lexa.” Lexa visualises Anya’s unamused stare.

“I could, but it would take too long. I need this done now.”

Another silence. “Description?”

“Mid-thirties, six foot, stocky muscular build, bald, poor taste in suits.” Lexa hears the clicking of a keyboard. 

“I’ll send you the info.” Anya’s voice is businesslike once again.

“Thank you, Anya.” Lexa says quietly, gratefully. She pauses, before adding, “it was good to talk to you.” 

She hears Anya sigh again. “If you have time while you’re here, come visit us. I know Gustus would like to see you.”

“I’ll try.”

“Take care, Lexa”. The line goes dead. 

Lexa pockets her phone and enters the kitchen. She picks up the kettle, intending to make some tea, but doesn’t even get to the sink before she hears a buzz. She puts the kettle back down and pulls out her phone. Looking at the text, she see an address for a low rent hotel about 15 minutes away. Lexa could get there in ten. She looks through the doorway to the door of the bedroom. Clarke will probably be out for a while, enough time for Lexa to eliminate the immediate threat.

Lexa walks into the living room, writes a quick note and leaves it on the coffee table. With any luck, Clarke will never know she left.


	7. Chapter 7

**21 years ago.**

The bang was so loud. Lexa no longer jumped or closed her eyes, she gave no indication that the sound still scared her. She thought it always would. Lexa kept squeezing the trigger, counting in her head as she did so. When she reached seventeen she lowered the Glock, she knew she had discharged the magazine.

Cassius walked past her and stopped in front of the target. Lexa looked back through the trees and saw her house. At this distance it looked so small. Cassius had told her they wouldn’t be disturbed, that they were still on Woods property. Lexa began to get an inkling of just how much land surrounded her house. Cassius walked back, lifting the target when he stopped in front of her.

“Adequate.” Was all he said.

Lexa looked at the target. There were two holes in the bullseye, six holes in the 9 and 10 rings, three in the 8 ring, four in the 7 and two in the 6.

She looked up at Cassius. “I’ll be better next time.”

Cassius looked at another target and nodded at the tree it was pinned on. “Prove it.”

 

“Begin.”

Lexa ejected the magazine, racked the slide and locked it in place. She pushed her finger into the chamber and confirmed there wasn’t a round in there. Pointing the gun at the ground, Lexa squeezed the trigger, grabbed the slide and pulled it backwards. She pushed down on the slide release tabs and removed the slide from the frame of the Glock. Lexa flipped the slide over, removed the recoil spring and the barrel and placed the disassembled pistol on the workbench. She looked up and Cassius who stopped the stopwatch.

“Adequate.”

“I’ll be better next time.”

Cassius walked over to a cabinet, picked up another Glock 17 and placed it on the workbench in front of Lexa. “Prove it.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Lexa steers her motorbike into the alley, brings it to a stop and turns off the engine. She flips down the kickstand with her right foot, steps off the bike and removes her helmet. Lexa flips up the seat of the bike and places her helmet in the storage compartment, before stepping onto the street. 

Lexa looks across at ‘The Grand’. Whoever named the hotel either had a sense of humor, or they were an idiot. At some point in the past it may have been a nice place, a destination for those visiting Arkadia on a budget, now it sold rooms by the hour.

Lexa looks at her phone, triple checks the room number and deletes the text. She scans the facade of the building, confirms there are no security cameras covering the entrance, walks across the road and enters the hotel.

Lexa stops in the entrance, eyes immediately spotting the camera pointed at the reception desk. The thin, middle-aged man behind the desk doesn’t look up as Lexa enters. Apart from him the lobby is empty. Lexa looks to her right and sees the door to the stairwell. Sticking close to the wall, Lexa skirts around the camera, opens the door and heads up the stairs.

Lexa exits the stairwell on the seventh floor, She walks down the corridor and comes to stop at room 707. She stands with her back to the wall just next to the door. Lexa has no reason to believe the man inside will shoot through the door, in fact he would be crazy to do so, but caution has served her well in the past. Lexa reaches out and knocks.

“What!” The voice is deep, gruff and masculine.

“I have something you want.” Lexa replies seductively, her voice deliberately provocative.

She steps in front of the door when she hears it begin to open. The man inside, Clarke’s assailant, looks at Lexa, his gaze creeping hungrily up her leather clad body. Lexa smiles when his eyes reach her face.

“You certainly do.” He smiles lewdly and steps aside, letting Lexa in.

Lexa walks past him, feels proud of Clarke when she sees the bruises on the side on his face, and steps into the room. It’s small, a single bed, a nightstand and a small chest of drawers that doubles as a TV stand. Lexa pushes open the bathroom door and confirms there is no one inside, before crossing the room and closing the curtains. She turns around and sees the man waiting by the bed. Lexa drops the act.

“Lexa Woods.”

She sees the man’s smirk drop, confusion cross his face followed by disappointment then surprise, before ending on realisation.

“Lexa Woods! The Lexa Woods? Did you really eliminate every single member of the Montis family? 

Lexa doesn’t reply and the man composes himself. “Quint” he says, drawing himself to his full height.

“Clarke Griffin.”

Quint narrows his eyes, “You after her too? Shoulda known, a price like that for a civilian, knew there’d be competition.”

“Who took out the contract?”

Quint shrugs, “How would I know? You know that’s not how it works.” Lexa does know, but it was worth a shot.

“Clarke Griffin is under my protection. Spread the word.”

Lexa sees the man tense, annoyance appear on his face. “You the one that sucker punched me yesterday?”

“I’m the one that took you down before you knew I was there.”

The annoyance shifts to anger. He unbuttons his jacket button. “All the stories I heard about you, the tales the old timers tell, I don’t believe any of them. No one could have done the things they say you did.” He pushes his jacket aside and slowly unsheathes his large knife. “I’m gonna gut the pretty doctor, right after I’m finished with you.”

Quint lunges. Lexa spins on her left foot and rotates her body, her left side now facing him. She leans back slightly and watches as Quint’s knife, and arm, pass harmlessly through the air in front of her. Lexa lashes out, her right hand grabs his wrist while her left digs into the crook of his elbow. She pulls his elbow, pushes his arm backwards and stabs him in the throat with his own knife.

Quint stumbles backwards, blinking rapidly. Lexa gives him credit for not immediately pulling the knife out. A swift kick to the calf drops him to both knees. Lexa walks around him, wraps her left arm around his forehead, places her right hand over his and pulls. The knife comes out, the arterial spray hits the bed and Quint gurgles and falls forwards.

Lexa exits the room, locking it behind her. She walks down the stairs, avoiding the camera as she crosses the lobby and leaves the hotel.

 

Closing the front door of her apartment, Lexa speeds up when she hears the phone ringing. She quickly realises it’s not the landline and is at the bedroom door when the ringing stops.

“Raven.” Clarke’s voice is muffled, but audible. Lexa turns towards the kitchen, intending to give Clarke some privacy.

“Raven!? Who is this!?” Lexa stops and turns back to the bedroom.

“Alright. Please don’t do anything, don’t hurt her.” Clarke pleads. “I’ll be right there.” 

Lexa throws the door open, Clarke, in the middle of putting her sneakers on, looks up. There is fear and worry in her eyes, but a look of stubborn purposefulness on her face.

Clarke walks towards Lexa. “I have to go home. Some guy just threatened to kill Raven.” Her voice doesn’t waver, it doesn’t reveal how scared she is.

Lexa thinks back to the beautiful woman that left Clarke’s apartment with her, it’s likely that woman is Raven. 

“Clarke, he’s going to kill you.” Lexa’s is blunt, she needs to reason with Clarke. Clarke pushes past her and storms towards the front door.

“I don’t care! If it means Raven lives, I’ll die!”

Lexa reaches out and grabs Clarke’s arm. Clarke tears her arm away, but stops.

“You love her.” It isn’t a question. Clarke replies anyway. 

“Yes.” She says with absolute certainty.

Lexa looks away, takes just a second to process Clarke’s declaration, to deal with the warring emotions she feels. Happiness that Clarke has found someone, sadness that the small flicker of hope she held in her heart, that tiny chance that she may get a happy ending, has been extinguished.

“Wait here.” Lexa’s tone is authoritative enough to brook no dissent. Clarke, of course, dissents.

“You’re not going to stop me!”

“No, I’m not. I’m going to help you.”


	8. Chapter 8

**20 years ago.**

Clarke walked into the playground while the rest of her class rushed past her, calling out to their parents. Clarke was in no hurry, her Mom had told her she’d be a little late picking her up and to wait in the playground until she got there. Clarke headed to a table, sat down and pulled out a pad and some coloring pencils.

Clarke looked up at the tree she was drawing and saw a young girl standing by the swings. She looked a year or two younger than Clarke, had long, dark hair and was dressed a dark jeans and a dark blue jumper. She gripped the straps of her backpack tightly and Clarke was reminded of her first day. She put her pad and pencils in her bag and smiled as she walked towards the girl.

“Hello, I’m-”

The girls head whipped round and regarded Clarke with suspicion. Clarke maintained her smile, the girl was probably scared or worried.

“Clarke,” Clarke finished. “I haven’t seen you at school before. Is this your first day?” 

The girl nodded. Clarke continued, “I remember my first day, I was really scared.”

“I’m not scared.” The girl responded, she seemed insulted.

“You’re braver than me then.” Clarke’s smile widened. The wariness began to fall from the girl’s face and she smiled slightly.

“I’m Octavia.”

“Hi. I’m waiting for my Mom, are you?”

Octavia shook her head. “My big brother,” she nodded towards the elementary school. “He’s still in class, he told me to wait here for him.”

Clarke wondered why the girl’s parents weren’t picking her up. She realised that if Octavia’s brother was still in class that meant he was older. She knew the oldest children at their school were 13. 13 year olds were grown up enough to walk home by themselves so he’d be old enough to take Octavia as well. Satisfied she’d solved the puzzle, Clarke looked at the swing.

“Do you want me to push you?”

Octavia’s smile grew.

 

“Clarke!”

Clarke smiled but didn’t turn her head, if she did the swing could hit her. She pushed Octavia and felt a body press into her side. She pushed Octavia again and her face scrunched up in confusion as she felt hot breath hit the side of her neck. A second later soft lips pressed against her neck and blew a loud raspberry.

Clarke shrieked and jumped sideways. Lexa let out a laugh of pure delight as she turned around and stopped the swing from hitting her. Lexa leaned over Octavia’s shoulder.

“Hi.” Lexa’s smile had vanished, replaced with a look of consideration as she took the girls measure.

Octavia hopped off the swing and regarded Lexa. Before she could speak, the three girls heard another voice.

“Octavia!” A boy came running towards them. Behind him Clarke could see the rest of his class leaving the school. Clarke assumed he was Octavia’s brother, he had the same dark hair, but he didn’t look 13.

“Hi Bellamy.” Octavia replied. She turned to Clarke. “Clarke, this my brother Bellamy.”

“Hi.” Clarke waved at him. She was pleased that she’d been right.

“Hi.” He responded with a nod and turned to face Lexa.

“Lexa.” 

Clarke shook her head at the fake smile on Lexa’s face. Bellamy’s eyes narrowed, his expression changed from cautious to outright hostile. He stepped towards Lexa.

“Stay away from my sister!” He growled, turned around and pulled Octavia away. Clarke saw the downturn of Lexa’s mouth and her stomach twisted, she felt bad her friend was sad.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Clarke feels her stomach twist and turn. She fights back a wave of nausea as she steals a glance at Lexa. Lexa looks calm, unworried, so Clarke looks closer, tries to spot Lexa’s tells, the subtle changes to her face when she’s scared or concerned, the things only Clarke can see. Clarke doesn’t see them, Lexa is truly unperturbed and Clarke, taking strength from her, begins to feel her own nerves settle.

Lexa turns the steering wheel and pulls her grey, 4 door sedan onto Clarke’s street. Clarke looks up as her apartment building comes into view. She knows it’s ridiculous but she expects to see some change to the facade, an external manifestation of the evil that is now inside. It looks just the same as it always does.

Lexa pulls up and turns off the engine. She turns in her seat to look at Clarke.

“Clarke, you don’t have to-”

“I’m coming with you.” Clarke’s says resolutely. Nothing will stop her helping Raven.

They exit the car, walk up the steps and Clarke opens the door. She walks through the lobby, smiles and gives a cheery hello to Mr Nicoli and steps into the elevator. When Lexa steps in besides her, she presses the button for the fourth floor.

“You live in a nice building, Clarke.” Lexa says conversationally. “It’s bright, clean and someone takes obvious pride in maintaining it. 

“Yeah, it’s nice.” Clarke replies, without really thinking. “Raven and I agreed to move in together so we could get a place here. We couldn’t afford it on our own.” Clarke’s voice breaks slightly and she clenches her left hand to stop it shaking.

“Clarke, I promise you nothing will happen to her.” Clarke turns, looks at Lexa and sees the absolute conviction in her eyes. 

“I believe you.”

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Clarke exits and walks towards her apartment. Stopping at the door of 409, Clarke takes a second to try and calm her nerves. She reminds herself that all that matters is Raven gets out alive. She looks up at Lexa, who nods, opens the door and steps into her apartment.

She isn’t expecting horns or a tail, but she also isn’t expecting the completely normal, brown haired, brown eyed man sitting at the kitchen table. He’s handsome in a bland, inoffensive, non-threatening way. He is wearing a tailored dark blue suit and a white shirt with a matching tie. If his right hand wasn’t resting on the table and the gun in it not pointed at Raven, Clarke would have assumed Raven had picked him up.

“Doctor Griffin, I’m glad you could join us.” His smile drops as Clarke feels Lexa step behind her. “Well that was very foolish. Would both of you please join us at the table.”

Clarke immediately sits next of Raven. Raven’s hands, bound with duct tape, rest on the table in front of her. Clarke places her hand over them and feels a crushing guilt as she notices the bruising around Raven’s eye. She feels the tears start to fall.

“Hey, Clarke,” Raven’s voice is quiet but firm. “This isn’t your fault.” All Clarke can do is shake her head. She sees Raven start to speak, but Lexa gets there first.

“Lexa Woods” she says sitting down. The man turns to her and Clarke sees his eyes go wide.

“The Lexa Woods?” He asks and continues after Lexa nods. “Did you really kill Adewale Akachi in his Presidential Palace?”

Clarke can’t help the stupefied look she throws at Lexa. How had the guy heard of her? Had Lexa really killed someone?

Lexa doesn’t respond, instead she nods at the cut on the man’s forehead and the bruising on his check. Clarke frowns, she’d been so focused on Raven she’d missed that.

The man throws an amused look at Raven. “She didn’t submit easily.”

Clarke turns to Raven and sees the gratified smile on her lips. She gives a weak one in return, Raven always was a fighter.

“Attacking civilians, taking hostages, this isn’t how we do things.” Lexa chastises the man.

The man’s smile is sly, mocking. “It might not be how you do things, but for $500,000 I’ll do whatever it takes.”

The disbelief is written on Raven’s face, Clarke, equally as confused, just shrugs.

“You’ll never leave this apartment alive. You pull the trigger now, I kill you. You point that 4006 at Clarke, I kill you.”

“What if I just kill you?” He asks, swinging his arm around to point his gun at Lexa.

“No!” Clarke stands up so quickly her chair is violently knocked over, but before she even gets to her feet, Lexa has reacted. Lexa moves so quickly Clarke barely manages to follow the movement. She sees Lexa’s arm shoot out and hears a grunt of pain as the man snatches his arm back, his hand now empty. Clarke looks with amazement as Lexa points his own gun at him.

Clarke hears laughter and realises it’s the man, he shakes his head ruefully. “Never really believed the stories about you. Guess I was wrong.”

Without taking her eyes off the man, Lexa reaches into her pocket and holds two keys out to Clarke. “Clarke, take Raven to my apartment. Use the car we came in.”

Clarke stands there, at war with herself. Her need to make sure Raven is safe battles with her unwillingness to leave Lexa alone. Clarke makes her decision.

“If you’re not at the apartment in 30 minutes, I’m coming back.” Clarke takes the keys and hurries Raven out of the apartment.

 

Lexa racks the slide on the 4006 and catches the cartridge as it flies out the chamber. She throws it into the sink. She ejects the magazine, throws it onto the couch and places the empty pistol on the kitchen table. She never had any intention of firing it, the pistol isn’t suppressed, the gunshot would have been loud and Lexa didn’t want to bring any attention to Clarke.

Lexa gives the man some credit, he doesn’t take the bait. Instead of reaching for the gun he stands up. Lexa mirrors his movement, he may have another firearm and staying seated would put Lexa at a distinct disadvantage. He walks around the table and stops a few feet away from Lexa.

“We’re doing this the old fashioned way.” It’s not a question, but Lexa nods regardless.

The man brings up his fists and adopts a conventional boxing stance. Lexa turns her body, bends her knees slightly, and brings up both hands, palms facing the man. The man throws some fast left jabs, followed by a hard right cross. Lexa knocks them aside with her palms. He steps back, sneers and charges Lexa. The sudden change in tactics takes Lexa by surprise. She expels the air from her lungs, a split second before his shoulder crashes into her sternum. He reaches down, grabs her thighs and lifts, taking Lexa off her feet and slamming her into the floor. The man follows her down, mounting her. He leans back to strike and Lexa bridges, pushing her hips up and twisting her waist. The momentum throws the man off her. 

Before he can react, Lexa rolls onto him. She wraps her left arm around his throat and starts to squeeze. The man begins to struggle, but face down his options are limited. He does the only thing he can think to do, roll them both over. Lexa smiles to herself, rolls with the man and wraps her legs around his midsection. At the same time she pushes her right arm under his right shoulder, brings her right hand up and locks it with her left, trapping the man’s right arm and increasing the pressure on his neck. His left hand swats futilely at Lexa, his brain shutting down from the lack of oxygen, a second later he goes limp. Lexa shifts her arm, taking the pressure off his carotid artery, she applies it to his trachea and strangles him to death. 

Lexa gets to her feet, retrieves the round in the sink, the magazine from the couch and the 4006 from the table. She looks at the man and considers her options. It has been a long time since she’d had the battlefield chosen for her and leaving a dead body in the middle of Clarke’s apartment is out of the question. She thinks about disposing of it herself, but she needs tools, time or the cover of night and she has none of these. There is only one thing she can do. She takes out her phone and dials the number.

“Graves Personal Security. Anya Hunter speaking.” 

“It’s Lexa.”

The line is silent, but Lexa swears she hears Anya’s surprised gasp. “Twice in one day.” 

“I have some rubbish I need to get rid of.”

“You need a disposal?” Anya doesn’t even try to hide the amusement in her voice. 

“I don’t have time to deal with it.”

“Lexa, is everything alright? Are you in trouble?” Anya was never one for emotion, Lexa feels touched.

“I’m fine. Now’s not the best time to talk.”

“Right. I take it the rubbish isn’t in the middle of the street?”

“No, an apartment.”

“Text me the address. The guy I send will be there in 30 minutes.”

“I can’t wait that long.”

Lexa swears she can hear Anya roll her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure you have more important things to be doing, Lexa. The door?”

“Standard deadbolt.” Lexa replies.

“My guy will let himself in. Are you expecting any visitors?”

“No, no one will be here for a while.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“No. Thank you, Anya.” Lexa says quietly, gratefully. 

“Take care, Lexa.” The line goes dead.


	9. Chapter 9

Lexa quietly enters into her apartment and hears voices coming from the living room.

“Clarke, stop apologising. I already told you this isn’t your fault.”

“Raven, if it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t have been held hostage, you wouldn’t have been hurt!”

“Clarke!” Raven’s voice is firm. “”I don’t blame you. You didn’t force him to point a gun at me, he chose to do that. Everything that happened is on that bastard, not you. You get that, right?”

“I don’t know why this is happening. I don’t know why people are trying to kill me. What did I do!”

“I don’t know.” Raven says quietly.

Lexa shuts the door, louder than she normally would, walks down the hallway and into the living room. Clarke and Raven are sitting on the couch, arms around each other. They both look drained, mentally and physically, coming down from the adrenaline that had flooded their bodies. 

Lexa ignores the desire to comfort Clarke, to be in Raven’s place, she hasn’t had that privilege for a long time. She walks into the kitchen, picks up her tablet, logs onto the website and brings up Clarke’s contract. She walks back into the living room, places the tablet in front of Clarke and pockets the unopened note she left for her. 

“Someone wants you dead, Clarke.” She says plainly. There’s no way to sugarcoat the truth and she knows Clarke wouldn’t want her to. Clarke picks up the tablet, she and Raven look at it with complete disbelief.

“$500,000 is unusually high, it’s ten times what it should be. That, and the fact you’re a civilian, an easy target, means these attacks will keep coming, they will increase in frequency as more contractors see that.” Lexa nods at the tablet in Clarke’s hands. “Clarke, you need to leave Arkadia. We can head to the train station and buy a ticket to Polis, I have a place on the outskirts, it’s safe and will give us the time we need to figure out who initiated the contract and how to get it rescinded.”

“If I leave, what’s to stop someone just grabbing Raven again, or one of my other friends. If they’re going to be in danger because of me, I’m not going anywhere.” Lexa begrudgingly admires Clarke’s loyalty and bravery, even as she feels frustrated at her stubbornness.

“Once a contractor finds out you’re no longer in Arkadia they will start to track you down, they will follow you to Polis. They’d have no reason to attack your friends.”

“Can you guarantee that. Can you promise no one would hurt them.”

“Clarke, your friends aren’t my concern.” Lexa says exasperated.

“Well, they are mine! I have to tell them.”

Lexa sighs and throws a look at Clarke. A small part of her finds it difficult to believe Clarke is still this stubborn, the larger part is not surprised in the slightest. “If your friends change their routine, do anything different, a contractor would notice, it would put them in more danger.” 

Lexa pauses for a second, there is one thing she could do. “I can arrange protection, a small team could keep an eye on your friends, intervene discretely if it looks like they’re in trouble.”

“You can do that?” Clarke asks.

“I would need to speak to an old friend.”

“If my friends were safe, I would leave.”

Lexa nods, she’s about to stand when Raven speaks. “Who the hell are you?” She says baffled.

“Lexa Woods.” 

Lexa sees Raven’s eyes widen when she turns to look at Clarke. Clarke nods and when Raven turns to look at Lexa, Lexa sees the anger on her face.

“Excuse me.” Lexa rises from her chair, walks into the kitchen and closes the door. She takes out her phone and dials a number.

“Graves Personal Security. Anya Hunter speaking.” 

“It’s Lexa.”

“This is no longer funny, Lexa. What are you up to?”

“I need to see you, we have some business to discuss.”

Lexa hears the clicking of a mouse. “I can see you at 14:30 tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Then I’ll see you in 20.” The line goes dead.

Lexa steps into the living room. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

Clarke rises to her feet. “I’m coming with you.”

“Clarke,” Lexa begins, the weariness evident in her voice.

“I want to meet the people that will be protecting my friends. I have to know they’ll be OK.” Clarke says passionately.

Lexa nods, she knows it would be pointless arguing. “Raven, please make yourself at home.”

Raven shoots Lexa a hostile glare. “I will.” She responds tersely

 

As the car pulls into traffic, Clarke sees Lexa surreptitiously look at her. Clarke’s jaw is set, chin jutted out slightly, eye’s focused and determined. She has a plan, protect her friends and nothing will stop her accomplishing that.

They are quiet for a while, each lost in their thoughts as Lexa steers the car towards east Arkadia. After another quick glimpse at Clarke, Lexa finally speaks. 

“Raven is an exceptional woman. Not many could keep calm the way she has.”

“Yeah, Raven’s amazing.” Clarke replies, a fond smile on her face.

“How long have you know her?”

“About nine years. We met at Ark U. We didn’t like each other at first. I thought she was arrogant and full of herself, she thought I was a bossy control freak.”

“Things obviously changed.”

“We just got to know each other. Found out who the other person actually was and not who we thought they were. She’s really smart, she builds rockets and jet engines for Arkadia Aerospace.” Clarke says proudly.

“How long have you been together?”

Clarke turns to look at Lexa. “We’re not together, we’re friends. Besides, I have a boyfr- Finn.”

“A boyfinn?” Lexa repeats with a small upturn of her lips

Clarke rolls her eyes. “It’s new, we’re not at the label stage.”

Lexa can’t stop herself. “We were at the label stage after our first date.”

Clarke’s glare is withering. “I was young and stupid back then.”

 

Lexa pulls into the carpark of a small, four-storey, office block. She cuts the engine and steps out of the car. Clarke follows and looks up at the building, she’s not sure what she expected, but it wasn’t as mundane as this.

Lexa opens the door for Clarke, who steps into the lobby. It is clean, with a well appointed waiting area, comfortable seats and a wide selection of magazines. Lexa steps up to the smiling redhead sitting at the reception desk.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you today?”

“Lexa Woods to see Anya Hunter.”

The receptionist checks her computer. “Graves Personal Security. It’s on the fourth floor, the last door on the left.” 

“Thank you.” 

Clarke and Lexa step into an elevator and Lexa pushes the button for the fourth floor. 

The doors close and Clarke turns to Lexa. “Graves Personal Security?”

“They provide bodyguards and security specialists for very wealthy, very paranoid people. A friend, Gustus Graves, owns it. Anya Hunter is responsible for the day-to-day business.”

The elevator reaches the fourth floor and Clarke and Lexa find themselves in front of a heavy, steel door. Lexa leans forwards to talk into the intercom next to it.

“It’s Lexa.” 

The door buzzes and Lexa swings it open, motioning for Clarke to go first. Clarke steps into a moderately sized office that looks much bigger given how spartan it is. A large oak desk sits by the far wall, in front of it are two padded chairs. There are two doors, one in the left wall and one in the right. Sitting behind the desk, in a large leather office chair is a women. 

Clarke can’t place her age. She has a timeless, effortless beauty. With her perfect, flawless skin she could be Lexa’s age, but the wisdom in her intelligent, light brown eyes reveals she is older. From her prominent cheekbones, her elegant jawline narrows to a strong, refined chin. Her dark blonde hair perfectly frames her face and tumbles down her shoulders. A simple white blouse and a knee length black skirt cover her strong but slender physique. Clarke could easily be taken by her beauty, if the woman wasn’t currently shooting her a death glare.

“Clarke Griffin.” She says, her voice strong and confident. She turns to Lexa. “Is this why you’ve been calling me?”

“Anya,” is all Lexa manages to get out before Anya continues.

“Have you gone mad. You know how much she’s worth. Every contractor within 100 miles is coming for her. Are you really going to risk your life for her? Lexa, look at her, you could do better and she’s certainly not worth-”

“Anya,” Lexa’s voice is low and dangerous. “You know how much I respect you, how grateful I am for all you taught me, but if you talk about Clarke like that again, we are going to have a problem.”

Clarke sees the brief flash of surprise and worry cross Anya’s face. Anya drops her head slightly, breaking eye contact with Lexa, before focusing back on Clarke.

“Doctor Griffin, I apologise. I didn’t mean to offend you, I’m just worried for my… friend.”

“I understand,” Clarke says. “The reason I’m here is because I’m worried for my friends.”

“How can we help you, Doctor Griffin?”

Clarke turns her head to the new voice. When she sees the man standing by the open door in the left wall, she can’t figure out how she didn’t hear or see him coming.

The man towers over her, Clarke estimates he must be at least six foot six. His short brown hair and beard are neatly groomed and his nose is slightly crooked, Clarke assumes it’s the result of being broken one too many times. He is wearing black trousers and a black tie. His plain white shirt is stretched across a broad chest and powerful arms. He walks towards Clarke and extends his arm.

“Gustus Graves. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Griffin.” Clarke accepts his handshake, his huge paw completely engulfing her own hand. 

Gustus turns to Lexa, his smile fond and his eyes soft. He throws his arms around her, his hug surprisingly gentle for such a large man. He bows his head and lowers his mouth to Lexa’s ear, his voice is quiet, but Clarke overhears.

“I’m so very happy to see you, little one.” The affection in his voice reminds Clarke of her Dad and she quickly swallows the lump she feels in her throat.

Gustus releases Lexa and walks abound the desk to stand next to Anya. He motions to the two chairs. “Please, take a seat.”

Clarke and Lexa sit and Gustus continues. “You said you’re worried about your friends?”

Clarke nods. “Yes, the people that are after me, I’m worried they’ll use my friends to get to me. Lexa told me you can protect them.”

“Our people can protect them.” Anya clarifies as she faces her monitor. “Who would you like us to keep an eye on?” Her fingers rest on her keyboard. 

“Abigail Griffin, Raven Reyes, Wells Jaha, Montgomery Green, Jasper Jordan, Octavia Blake, Bellamy Blake,” Clarke pauses before adding, “Finn Collins.”

“Anyone else?” Anya asks, typing quickly.

“No, I can give you their addresses.”

“No need, I already have all their information.”

“How did you-” Clarke begins before Anya interrupts.

“What level of protection would you like for them?”

Clarke turns to Lexa, unsure what to say. “A full team for everyone, covert and round the clock.” Lexa responds. 

Clarke notices the questioning look Anya sends Lexa. “Are you sure?” Anya asks. “You know how much that will cost.”

Clarke sees the disdain cross Lexa’s face and realises Anya has just offended her. Lexa takes a breath before replying. “Yes, I know.” Lexa’s voice is measured. “And you know that’s not an issue.”

“No, it’s not. I’m not taking your money, Lexa. This is free of charge.” Gustus pronounces.

“No.” Lexa replies firmly. “This is business, don’t insult me.”

Gustus nods, he turns to Clarke. “Doctor Griffin, we can dispatch covert bodyguards immediately. It will take us until tomorrow to get a full team in place. Is that acceptable?”

“Will they be safe?” Clarke needs assurances.

“Yes.” Anya responds confidently. “Each of your friends will be guarded by five specialists. The people targeting you are working alone. If they’re good, they’ll spot our team and won’t risk an engagement. If they’re not, our team will neutralise them. Your friends couldn’t be better protected.”

Clarke nods. “Thank you.”

Lexa stands so Clarke does likewise. Gustus steps forward and places an arm on Lexa’s shoulder. “Be careful.” He says softly.

Lexa simply nods before turning to Anya.

“Thank you, Anya.”

“Take care, Lexa.”


	10. Chapter 10

Lexa pulls out of the carpark and onto the road. Clarke, pensive and quiet since leaving the office, finally speaks.

“You know you’re going to have to tell me about this. How you know what’s happening. How you know Gustus and Anya. Where you’ve been for the last 12 years.”

Lexa turns to find Clarke staring at her, she turns her eyes back to the road. “I will, Clarke.” She promises. “Once you’re safe and we have a moment to think, I’ll tell you everything.”

Clarke lets it go for now. “So, we’re going to Polis?”

“Yes, I have to pick up some things at my apartment. After that we head to the train station. When you buy a ticket to Polis, it will draw the contractors there and away from your friends.”

“Lexa, will they be safe?”

Lexa smiles to herself. Despite Anya’s reassurances, Clarke is still worried about them.

“Yes, Clarke, they’ll be safe. Gustus and Anya are the best, they hire the best.” Lexa thinks back to the names Clarke gave Anya. “You’re still friends with your old gang?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason, sometimes people drift apart.”

“Yeah, well, we didn’t abandon each other.”

The cold admonishment in Clarke’s voice hits Lexa like a physical blow. 

Clarke sighs. “How much do I own you?” Off Lexa’s inquiring look, she continues. “The security teams, how much?”

“Nothing, Clarke.”

“When Gustus sends you the bill, send it to me.”

“Clarke, I-”

“I’m not going to be in your debt. I don’t want to owe you anything.” Clarke seethes with indignation. 

“Clarke!” Lexa barks. She takes a second, tries to push aside her emotions and compose herself, but her frustration is too great. “You can’t afford it and I don’t care about the cost, I only care about you!” Lexa winces internally at the slip and quickly adds, “keeping you alive.”

Out the corner of her eye, Lexa sees the belligerence start to fall from Clarke’s face, feels her hostile, bristling energy start to calm. She hears the anger leave her as Clarke lets out a long breath.

“Thank you, Lexa. Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for saving Raven and thank you for protecting my friends.”

“You’re welcome, Clarke.”

Clarke’s smile to Lexa is apologetic. Lexa’s small smile is understanding and forgiving.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Before it gets uncomfortable, Clarke speaks. “I need clothes. I’m guessing we can’t go back to my apartment. I just wish I’d had the chance to pack a bag.”

Lexa thinks, calculates the risks, estimates how many contractors are in Arkadia and weighs that against the ease of buying new clothes. She sees the resigned expression on Clarke’s face and goes against her instincts.

“We have to be quick and you’d have to listen to me.”

“I can do that.” Clarke assures Lexa. 

 

Lexa pulls up outside Clarke’s apartment. The two women share a look before getting out the car. Clarke walks in front, Lexa behind her, eye’s noticing every movement, ears attuned to the slightest sound. When they get to the door of Clarke’s apartment, Lexa takes the key and steps through first. The living room and kitchen is empty, the man’s body already gone. Lexa motions for Clarke to follow her. Raven’s bedroom and the bathroom are also empty, Clarke quickly grabs some toiletries. Lexa opens the door to Clarke’s room and steps inside.

Lexa assures herself the bedroom is empty and steps aside so Clarke can enter. Clarke reaches under her bed and pulls out a suitcase, as she opens her wardrobe, Lexa takes in Clarke’s bedroom. 

The sense of familiarity hits her like a wave. The predominant colors are still blue and white, Clarke still has prints of paintings on the walls and pictures of her friends pinned above her bed. Lexa feels her lip curl upwards, Clarke bedroom is still organised chaos. Books are scattered in piles around the room, but the titles show the books in each pile are about the same subject. Art suppliers also litter every surface, but the brushes, paints and colored pencils are all in their own neat groups. Lexa’s eyes come to the rest on Clarke’s bed and she is thunderstruck when she sees the small, stuffed lion next to the pillow.

“I couldn’t throw him away.” 

Lexa turns to Clarke. Clarke is wearing a small, self-conscious smile. “When you left, I threw away everything that reminded me of you, but I couldn’t throw him away.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Lexa says quietly. “Leo shouldn’t be punished for my actions.”

Clarke’s laugh is short but authentic. “I’d like to change. Do you mind?”

Lexa steps towards the door and opens it. She turns before she walks through. “I’ll be right outside.” Lexa steps into the hallway, closes the door behind her and waits.

Clarke emerges a few minutes later, holding her case and wearing dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt. “I’m ready.” She says to Lexa. 

As they head to the front door, Clarke speaks again. “What happened to the guy?”

“He’s gone.”

Lexa expects a follow up question, but Clarke just nods.

 

Clarke walks into the living room of Lexa’s apartment. She scans the area and starts to panic when Raven is nowhere in sight. “Raven!” She calls.

The door of the kitchen opens and Raven steps through. Clarke feels relief wash over her, walks over to her friend and throws her arms around her. Raven immediately returns the hug.

“Everything OK?” Raven asks.

Clarke steps back. “Yeah, everything’s good.”

From behind them, Lexa speaks. “Clarke, I’ll be ready in five minutes, we’ll leave then.” She walks into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Clarke and Raven step into the kitchen and take a seat at the island.

“Are you OK?” Clarke asks.

“I’m fine. How are you?”

Clarke gives Raven a faltering smile. “OK.”

Clarke can see the skepticism on Raven’s face and waits for her to press the issue, is ready with her assurances, thankfully Raven lets it go.

“Figured out why someone wants you dead?” Raven asks instead.

Clarke shakes her head. “I don’t know. Lexa and I will figure it out.”

“Lexa. The same Lexa you still bitch about when you get drunk.”

“Not all the time!” Clarke says defensively. Raven grins and Clarke smiles. “She saved my life, she’s arranged protection for you and our friends and she knows more than she’s letting on. She’s my best shot at getting my life back.”

Raven nods in reluctant agreement. “About this protection?”

“You won’t know they’re there. They’ll just keep an eye on you and the gang, make sure you’re safe.”

Raven nods. “What are you going to tell them?”

“Nothing.”

“Clarke!” Raven starts to argue. Clarke cuts her off.

“Lexa was right. They’d want to get involved, they’d want to protect me. It would just put them in danger. Raven, they’re not trained killers.”

“Octavia might be.” Raven quips and both women share a very real smile. “You can’t just disappear though. They’ll get worried and try to track you down.”

“Yeah,” Clarke agrees. “I’ll text them, tell them I have a work conference. I’ll think of another excuse for work. I’ll tell them I need some personal time or something.” 

“Cool, I’ll cover for you if anything comes up.”

“Thank you.”

“Clarke.” Lexa’s voice comes from the living room. Clarke and Raven exchange one last comforting smile before leaving the kitchen. 

Lexa is standing by the entrance hallway. She is holding a leather overnight bag and has changed out of her motorcycle leathers. She now wears a black three piece suit, a dark grey shirt and a red tie. “Are you ready?” She asks.

Clarke turns to Raven and the two embrace. Once they break apart, Clarke walks towards Lexa. “I’m ready.” she says voice resolute.

Lexa nods and offers her a small, reassuring smile. She looks past Clarke and addresses Raven. “Raven, you are welcome to stay here for as long as you need to. I have left a set of keys on the coffee table.”

Raven’s eyes go wide. “Thank you.” She responds, unable to disguise the surprise in her voice.

Lexa simply nods and turns back to Clarke. Clarke nods at her, and with a final goodbye smile to Raven, they leave the apartment.

 

They drive to the station in silence. Clarke texts her friends, her mom and the hospital and does her best to explain why she’s leaving so suddenly. Lexa concentrates on driving and tries to think of something to say to Clarke, she can’t think of a single thing.

 

Lexa pockets her train ticket and steps away from the booth. She approaches Clarke, who has her back to a pillar and is scanning the crowd. Lexa admires her instincts.

“We have a few minutes before we need to board. Will you join me in the washroom?”

Clarke shoots her a surprised, quizzical look. Her response is a hesitant, “Sure.”

They step into the washroom and Lexa puts her overnight bag on the counter. She reaches in and pulls out the ballistic vest she had tried to give Clarke that morning.

“Please put this on under your t-shirt, Clarke.”

Clarke nods, takes the vest and steps into a stall, closing the door behind her. Lexa turns her attention to the other reason she wanted to enter the washroom. She reaches into her suit jacket and removes the suppressed P232 from her shoulder holster. She holds it behind her back and stands next to the washroom door.

The door swings open seconds later. They don’t check behind the door, Lexa doesn’t criticise them. Even in their line of work, contractors often overlook it. The door swings shut and Lexa confirms she was correct. The new arrival is short, around 5 foot 2, with a slender build similar to Lexa’s, her glossy auburn hair is cut short, stopping at her chin. Lexa had spotted her taking an interest in Clarke shortly after they arrived at the station, and needed to confirm her interest was professional and not sexual. She gets it when the woman pulls a suppressed VP9 from her bag.

Lexa knows it’s risky, there’s a high probability that someone could enter the washroom at any time, but the woman has given her no choice. She steps forwards, clasps her hand around the woman’s mouth, presses her P232 into the top of woman’s head and fires twice. The woman instantly goes limp, her bag and pistol falling from her hands. Lexa quickly drags her to a stall and sits her on the toilet. She puts the VP9 back into the bag and places the bag on the woman’s lap. Lexa locks the door to the stall and wipes the blood from her suppressor. She reaches up, grabs the top of the stall and pulls herself up and over. She is washing her hands when Clarke exits her stall.

“Any problems?” She asks Clarke.

“No. It feels like a normal top.” Clarke looks in the mirror and runs her eye’s over her torso. “You can’t even see it under my t-shirt.”

“Good. You should turn off your phone, it can be traced.”

“Right.” Clarke pulls out her phone and switches it off.

Shall we board?”

“Yeah, OK.”

Ten minutes later the train pulls out of Arkadia and speeds it’s way towards Polis.


	11. Chapter 11

**15 years ago.**

Lexa knocked on the door and waited. She stood there for about a minute before she heard her Father’s voice.

“Enter.”

Lexa opened the door and stepped into his office. It was decorated in earth tones, dark browns and greys and expensive art lined the walls. Titus Woods sat behind his large rosewood desk. Lexa stood in front of it and waited for him to finish the papers he was reading.

“Alexandra.” He put down his papers and finally acknowledged her.

“Father, there’s something I wanted to ask you. I have my tutors, so why are you sending me to high school? I won’t learn anything, just like I didn’t learn anything in elementary school. It seems like a waste of time.”

“School will teach you something your tutors cannot, human nature. You will need to understand how people react, what makes them angry or scared and you will learn that what I have told you is true, that these emotions are weaknesses. Someone who is angry, or scared, or blinded by their emotions will make mistakes, mistakes that can be exploited. You will need to understand this when you take over the business.” 

Lexa nodded and decided to push her luck. “Is what they say about our business true? Is what they say about you true?”

Her Father looked her in the eyes and responded. “People are petty and lazy, jealous of success. They are weak and need to be told what to do. You are a Woods, you are better than everyone else.”

He picked up his papers and continued reading. Lexa took the hint and left the room.

 

“I can’t believe I’m not gonna see you everyday!” Clarke grumbled as she flounced onto her bed.

Lexa concealed her smile as she shut the bedroom door. She stepped over a pile of books, all focusing on the sciences, and sat on Clarke’s small desk chair. 

“We’ll still see each other everyday, just not at school.” Lexa explained.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I know that Lexa.” She replied sarcastically. Lexa saw Clarke’s usual bold demeanor start to slip. When Clarke next spoke, worry laced her voice. “When happens when you meet all those cool, older, teenages? When you start hanging out with people your own age you won’t wanna spend time with a kid anymore.”

Lexa got up, walked over to the bed and laid down next to Clarke. She took Clarke’s hand, squeezed it gently and smiled. “Clarke, you’re only two years younger than me, you’re not a kid. And even if you were-” Clarke playfully slapped Lexa on the arm. “Even if you were, I’d still want to hang out with you. I once told you I’d always be your friend, I meant it.”

Clarke rolled onto her side, threw her arm around Lexa and hugged her tight.

 

Lexa heard the squeal of brakes, the sound of something hitting the ground and leaves crunching underfoot as someone approached her. Lexa didn’t react, she knew who it was. She felt a body press into her side, an arm wrap tightly around her waist and saw a flash of blonde hair as Clarke rested her head on Lexa’s shoulder.

“Thank you for coming.” Lexa said softly.

Clarke’s response was to tighten her grip on Lexa.

Lexa looked down at the gravestone and let out a long sigh. “I don’t even remember her.” She admitted.

“You were two, Lexa. No one remembers anything from when they were two. It doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten her.” Clarke’s voice was gentle and calming. Lexa thought about how smart and caring Clarke was and a brief but powerful feeling overtook her. It was something she didn’t understand, so she pushed it away.

“The maids, the cooks, the groundsmen, they all loved her. They always tell me what an amazing woman she was. I sometimes wonder if they’re telling me the truth. How can someone like that fall in love with my Father? Was he different back then?”

“You don’t talk about him much.”

“What’s there to say, Clarke. Everyone knows Titus Woods. Everyone knows the grip he has on this city.” Lexa felt Clarke’s right hand grasp her own. “You’ve never asked me about him, never asked if what everyone says is true.”

“It didn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care about your Dad, Lexa, I care about you.”

They were quiet for a time. Eventually, Clarke spoke. “Me and my friends are hanging out tomorrow. You should join us.”

“You’re friends don’t like me, Clarke.”

“That’s not true.” Clarke replied unconvincingly.

Lexa felt a small smile appear on her lips. “Monty and Jasper are scared of me. So is Bellamy, but there’s another reason for his hostility, something I haven’t figured out yet. Octavia doesn’t like me because Bellamy doesn’t.”

“Wells likes you!” Clarke was quick to point out.

Lexa looked down and saw Clarke looking at her with those bright, gorgeous blue eyes. She felt that feeling again. “Wells is your smartest friend. I have no idea why he hangs out with your gang, he could do much better.”

Clarke laughed, “Sounds like someone’s got a crush on him.”

Lexa thought for a moment, she had figured out what she was feeling. “No, Clarke. I don’t have a crush on your friend.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

When the train arrives at Polis, the sun is starting to dip towards the horizon. Clarke follows Lexa to the carpark and gets into the dark blue SUV Lexa unlocks. As they drive through Polis, Lexa points out areas of historical or cultural significance to the ancient city. Clarke listens politely, history has never held much interest for her, and she suspects that Lexa is talking just to fill the silence. Clarke thinks back, it seems like a lifetime ago that they could just be around each other, to not have to fill strained silences, to take comfort in simply being near each other. Some part of Clarke laments the loss, as another part can’t help but blame Lexa for the distance between them. 

Clarke steals a glance at Lexa as she starts to talk about the old bath house. It would be easier if she looked different, but she still looks so much like the girl Clarke fell in love with, that it confuses matters. Whenever Clarke looks at Lexa she feels angry, she assumes that’s a normal reaction for someone you love just vanishing from your life. Clarke also feels angry at herself. Her old feelings, thought buried a long time ago, have started to resurface and she thinks she shouldn’t feel this way. It took her so long to get over Lexa, Clarke thought she’d never forgive her, yet Lexa has been back in her life for less than a day and she feels herself letting go of her resentment. Part of her hopes it’s just misplaced gratitude, Lexa has saved her life numerous times and made sure her friends are protected, but she knows it isn’t.

The buildings start to thin out as they drive through the outskirts and into the vast forests that surround Polis. The sun has almost set when Lexa turns the SUV onto a small dirt road, almost hidden by the treeline. They drive along a twisting, narrow track until, suddenly, the trees part and Lexa stops the SUV in front of her house. 

Clarke is slightly irritated by the predictability of it. Of course Lexa has a beautiful house in the middle of a clearing surrounded by trees. As she exits the SUV, she casts her gaze over the abode. She can’t help but think it’s too big. It seems to be a split level building, the section on the left is larger and longer, two-stories high compared to the right sections one-story. The entire building wraps around the edge of the clearing. Looking up, Clarke sees railings along the roof of the right section and assumes it doubles as a roof terrace. The right section also houses a set of garage doors. The house seems to be made of large panes of opaque glass, and light colored wood. 

Lexa steps past Clarke, holding Clarke’s suitcase and her own overnight bag and heads to the front door. After one last look around the clearing, Clarke follows her. Lexa inserts a key in the door and turns it, but the door doesn’t open. A small wooden panel next to the door slides down to reveal a keypad. Lexa taps in a code, turns the key again, and pushes the door open. Clarke looks at her, eyebrow raised, and Lexa simply shrugs.

“Welcome to my home, Clarke.” She says as she steps inside.

Clarke gets a quick tour. The right section consists of a gym, workshop and garage. The left section is the actual home, a living room, kitchen, library and office occupy the first floor, with bedrooms on the second floor. The windows, while appearing opaque outside, are transparent inside, affording amazing views of the woods. Lexa’s decor is an eclectic mix, modern furniture, steel and chrome tables, a black and white segmented sofa and state of the art appliances, stand next to wooden bookcases, a beautifully carved dining table and old, worn armchairs. There are pieces of art on the walls, placed there, Clarke knows, because they inspired a feeling in Lexa.

Lexa opens a door and Clarke steps into a bedroom. She does a quick estimate and is pretty sure it’s bigger than her apartment. It is fully furnished, with a large bed, wardrobes, drawers, a TV bolted to the wall and a laptop on the desk. Another door leads to an ensuite bathroom.

“I hope this will suffice, Clarke.” Lexa says putting Clarke’s suitcase on the bed. 

Clarke lets out an incredulous laugh. “Yes, Lexa. This will be sufficient.”

“Good.” Lexa replies.

Clarke shakes her head. Lexa has deliberately ignored her sarcasm. “Your home is amazing.” She says honestly.

Lexa looks a bit sheepish when she replies. “It’s too big.”

The two women share a smile before Lexa heads to the door. “It is safe though. Not including us, Gustus and Anya are the only people that know about it. I’ll make some dinner. Take some time to wash up and get settled. Please feel free to look around, my home is yours.”

 

Clarke spends some time unpacking, turns on the laptop and TV, both work, she had no reason to believe they wouldn’t, and washes her face. She leaves her bedroom and begins wandering around Lexa’s house. She spends some time in the library, although small, Lexa has an extensive collection of books lining the shelves. Clarke even finds Phaedo, something she’s been meaning to read for years. Clarke takes note of the large steel door in the hallway leading to the workshop. She tries to open it and is surprised when it doesn’t move, it’s the only locked door she’s found. As Clarke heads to the kitchen, she reminds herself to ask Lexa about it.

“That smells amazing.” Clarke says as she enters the kitchen.

“It’s just spaghetti bolognese.” Lexa replies as she finishes dishing up. She’s still wearing her suit, but has removed her jacket and rolled up her sleeves. “Would you like to eat here,” she nods to a small kitchen table, “or in the dining room?”

“Here’s fine.”

Lexa picks up both plates and places them on the table. “Please sit. Would you like some wine?”

“Yeah, that would be great.” Clarke responds as she takes a seat. 

Lexa returns a moment later with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. She pours a glass for Clarke as Clarke takes a bite of the food.

Clarke hums in appreciation. “This is delicious!”

“I’m glad you like it, I picked up the recipe when I was in Italy.”

“When were you in Italy?”

“A few years ago, for work. This is the first time I’ve tried to make it.”

“It’s pretty good for your first time.” Clarke swears she sees Lexa’s cheeks redden.

They eat and drink until Clarke breaks the silence. “Every door here is unlocked, except that big steel one.”

Lexa raises her head, her expression deadly serious as she looks Clarke in the eyes. “You must never open that door, Clarke, under any circumstances. If you do...” As she dips her head to eat, Clarke sees her lips curl up.

Clarke smiles. “OK, Bluebeard, I won’t go in the room where you keep your dead wives.”

Clarke sees the amusement in Lexa’s eyes as they smile at each other. Her smile fades as the light in Lexa’s eyes does.

“It’s locked because there are guns in there. Lots of guns. Do you still want to know what happened to me?”

Clarke nods, suddenly nervous her voice wavers as she replies. “Yes, I do.”

Lexa nods and begins to speak.


	12. Chapter 12

“After I left Arkadia, I had no destination or plan, I just drifted. By chance I ran into some servicemen in a small town near Polis. After talking to them, I found some direction. I enrolled at Polis Academy for a few months, I needed to get my high school diploma, and the second I turned 18, I joined the Marines.”

Lexa takes a breath and looks up. Clarke nods at her to continue.

“I served for two years, I was deployed to Afghanistan and then Pakistan, until a mission in a small town near the Indus River. The TTP, the Pakistani Taliban, had taken some hostages and Intel told us they were being held in the town. My squad was sent in to rescue them. What Intel didn’t know was that the town was an enemy stronghold. Two Marine fireteams were ambushed and killed. My team actually made it to the hostages. We had the river to our backs, we could escape if we swam, but without fire support we’d be sitting ducks. I told my team to take the hostages and swim, while I covered them. I thought I would die or be captured, but I wasn’t, I survived.”

Lexa takes a sip of wine before continuing.

“After the mission, the military thought my talents would be better used elsewhere. I was transferred to a black-ops unit called Division 9. That’s where I met Gustus and Anya, he ran the operations, she was responsible for the recruits. Division 9 eliminated high-value targets, terrorist leaders, warlords, dictators, the sort of people the world is better off without.”

Lexa chances a glance at Clarke. She looks upset.

“For two years I killed the worst humanity had to offer. Monsters who brought nothing but terror and misery. Then Gustus and Anya were forced out and Cage Wallace took over.”

“Cage Wallace? Dante Wallace’s son?” Clarke asks.

“Yes. Senator Wallace has oversight of Division 9.”

“Dante Wallace! I met him at a benefit for Ark M, he’s such a sweet, old man. He’s in charge of state sanctioned murder!?”

“It’s an act, Clarke. Dante Wallace will do whatever it takes to secure the interests of this country. He put his son in charge of a black-ops unit because Gustus wouldn’t eliminate some of the people he wanted dead.” 

“Is that when you left?” Clarke looks at Lexa with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.

“They asked me to leave with them, I said no. I thought I was where I needed to be. The first mission Wallace sent me on was to eliminate a government official in Russia. He was just a normal guy. I found out he was stopping an oligarch monopolising oil distribution. A monopoly that would have led to cheaper oil prices for us. I’ve killed a lot of people for a lot of reasons, but I wasn’t going to kill an innocent man. I called Cage and told him I was leaving.”

“They just let you go?”

Lexa looks amused. “Yes, Clarke. I know spy thrillers would have you believe otherwise, but black-ops agencies don’t try to kill their former operatives. They thank them for their service and gently remind them that if they tell anyone what they’ve done, they will be prosecuted for treason.”

“So you just committed treason?”

“I hope you won’t tell anyone.”

The two women share a smile. What did you do next?” Clarke asks.

“I went freelance.”

Lexa sees the horror spread across Clarke’s face. “You kill people for money. That’s how you knew about the contract. Lexa, why?”

“We’ve had similar discussions before, Clarke. I know it was a long time ago, but I suspect our views haven’t changed. Do we really need to rehash old arguments?”

Clarke sighs heavily as she shakes her head. “I guess not. Over the years I thought about what you said. I’ve not as naive as I used to be. I know sometimes violence is necessary and I know the world would be a better place without some people in it. It’s just… I’m a doctor, I took an oath to save lives.”

“It’s not something I do lightly. I know it may sound hypocritical, but every life I’ve taken, I did so because I genuinely believed their death would save others.”

“Did you kill Adewale Akachi?”

“Yes.”

“You stopped a dictator who sent death squads after his own people?”

“I did.” 

Clarke slumps back in her chair and rubs her temples. “This… It’s a lot to take in. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Lexa assures her.

Clarke leans forwards, suddenly more alert. “Thank you for telling me what happened, but you didn’t tell me why you left. Is it because of what happened to your Dad? Were you scared? Did you have to run?”

Lexa gives Clarke a sad, regretful smile. “Can we talk about that some other time?”

Clarke sees the pleading look on Lexa’s face. She knows if she pushed, Lexa would tell her. Instead, she nods. “Of course. It’s been a long day, I think I should call it a night.”

Lexa’s small smile is grateful. As Clarke begins to stand, she speaks earnestly and truthfully. “Clarke, tomorrow we’ll find out why this has happened to you. I promise you, you’ll get your life back.”

“I know.” Clarke heads towards the door, but stops and turns back to Lexa. “Can I ask you a favor?”

Lexa nods.

“Can you teach me how to defend myself? You saved my life and I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I don’t want to have to rely on you. I want to save myself.”

Lexa thinks back. It was over 20 years ago, but she still remembers it, the first time she met Clarke. She wonders if Clarke realises what she has said. When Lexa looks into Clarke’s eyes, she gets her answer.

“You remember that?” Lexa asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clarke smiles. “Of course I do. A scary girl teaching me my first life lesson. I’ve never had to fight a dragon, but her wise words taught me about self reliance.”

“I was a pretty smart child.”

Lexa knows Clarke’s next words could be hurtful, she even expects it. She is thrilled when Clarke’s tone is teasing. 

“Yeah, pity you didn’t stay that way.” Clarke’s face breaks into an amused smile.

Lexa can’t help but return the smile, wide and bright. She feels her cheek muscles groan in protest.

“We’ll start tomorrow. Get a good night's sleep, Clarke, you’ll need it.”

 

A repetitive banging wakes Clarke up. She looks at her phone and sees it’s 6:20 in the morning. She tries to ignore it, but it becomes more insistent and she finally realises someone is knocking on her door.

Throwing the door open, she sees Lexa standing there wearing leggings and a long sleeve running top. Lexa starts to speak, but stops, her mouth opens and closes a few times as her eyes travel up Clarke’s body. Clarke, momentarily confused, suddenly realises what’s going on. Last night she’d thrown on short pyjama shorts and a baggy, midriff baring t-shirt. She sees Lexa’s eyes stop at her thighs, her stomach and her exposed shoulder, before finally coming to rest on Clarke’s face.

“Good morning.” Clarke greets her, with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

Lexa swallows and quickly averts her gaze. She closes her eyes for a few seconds, before looking at Clarke again. 

“Get dressed and join me on the patio in ten minutes.” Lexa tries to sound authoritative, but Clarke hears the hitch in her voice. 

“OK.” Clarke responds and Lexa quickly walks away.

Ten minutes later, Clarke walks through the patio doors, wearing blue running shorts and a sturdy sports bra. Lexa is standing on the patio, her back is towards Clarke and she is bent at the waist, touching her toes. Clarke lets herself look at Lexa’s long, toned legs and firm buttocks, considering it payback for Lexa’s visual exploration of her body.

“Hey.” Clarke says as she steps towards Lexa.

Lexa stands up and turns to Clarke. Clarke sees Lexa’s eyes dart over her exposed skin, before she blinks and minutely shakes her head.

“We’re going for a run.” Lexa says, back in control of herself. “You should stretch.”

Clarke, amused and a little bit flattered that Lexa still finds her attractive, decides to have a little fun. She stretches provocatively, making sure to highlight her chest as she arches her back and her ass as she bends over. She catches Lexa looking at her several times. During a deep thigh stretch, Clarke lets out a little groan. Lexa, in the middle of a standing quad stretch, loses her balance and scrambles to avoid falling over. Clarke struggles to hide her laughter. 

Lexa clears her throat as she deliberately looks at Clarke’s face. “Are you ready?”

“Ready.” Clarke responds giving Lexa an innocent smile.

Lexa looks unamused. “Try to keep up.” She says as she runs into the woods. Clarke follows, her gaze occasionally dropping to Lexa’s ass. 

Clarke does keep up, for a while. Although she doesn’t have an exercise regime, her job at the hospital is physically demanding and she eats healthily, most of the time. She knows she is physically fit. However, when sweat breaks out on her forehead and it gets harder to breath, she looks at Lexa and starts to question herself. Lexa isn’t sweating, she isn’t even breathing hard and looks completely untroubled. Clarke feels a spark of irritation, but mostly gratitude, when Lexa slows the pace. When they return an hour later, Lexa has a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead. Clarke is gasping for breath and futilely trying to wipe the sweat from her face.

 

Freshly showered and wearing white sweatpants and a blue oversized hoodie, Clarke steps into the kitchen. Lexa, also showered and wearing casual black slacks with a light red blouse, is standing by the stove. 

“Are you making me breakfast?” Clarke asks, her voice a mixture of delight and surprise.

“You just worked out, Clarke, you need to refuel.”

“I can make my own breakfast.”

“You need more than sugary cereal.” Lexa replies. Clarke narrows her eyes and sends Lexa a look of faux annoyance. Lexa raises a quizzical eyebrow. 

Clarke looks at the plate Lexa puts on the kitchen table, a ham omelette with a side of bacon. Lexa places a glass of orange juice next to it, before serving up an identical breakfast for herself. The two women sit and begin to eat. 

“After breakfast, I’ll teach you about firearms. Even if you never use them, it’s good to know how they work and get some level of familiarity with them.” Lexa tells Clarke.

Clarke looks a bit uneasy, but nods. “Makes sense.” she replies. “I’ve been thinking about the contract on me. It must have something to do with the murder. The girl I saw wants me dead so I can’t testify.”

“Yes, that seems likely, although it doesn’t explain why the price is so high. You also said she didn’t see you, so someone must have informed her you were there.”

“I only told the police. The gang would have freaked out if I’d told them.”

Lexa nods. “That explains the officers that tried to kill you. I thought it unlikely they knew about the contract, so I suspect they got their orders from someone else.”

“I’ve been wondering why she shot him. He gave her the money, she could have just left.”

Lexa hums thoughtfully, “She’s either a psychopath, didn’t want any witnesses, or the robbery was just an excuse to kill him.”

“Right.” Clarke agrees. “So we need to look into it. Find out what we can about the victim and try to identify the girl. Is there anything else you wanted to teach me today?”

“Yes, hand to hand combat and self defense. I’d planned to do that after lunch.”

“OK. We can start the investigation this evening.”

“Sounds like we’re going to have an eventful day, Clarke.”

 

Clarke looks around the clearing Lexa has brought her to. The woods are quiet, peaceful and beautiful. A shaft of light cuts through the canopy and hits Lexa, making her hair and skin shine. Clarke looks away, the hot flush she feels and the quickening of her heart, annoy her. She reminds herself that this is about survival, not rekindling long dead relationships.

Lexa places her duffle bag on a log and opens it. She turns to Clarke with a small object held between her thumb and index finger.

“Clarke, this is a-”

“Bullet, I know. You don’t have to patronise me.” 

Lexa gives Clarke a very patient look before continuing. “Do you really think I would?”

“No.” Clarke admits with an apologetic smile.

“This is a cartridge, or round.” Lexa continues. She taps the rounded top. “This part is the bullet. It is held in place by a case.” Lexa taps the side of the cartridge. “Inside the case, underneath the bullet is some propellent, in this case cordite.” Lexa turns the cartridge over and points to a small round disk on the bottom. “This is the primer. When the hammer of a firearm hits it, it causes a spark which ignites the propellent and expels the bullet from it’s case.”

Clarke nods. “OK, simple chemistry and physics.”

Lexa allows herself a small smile as she pulls a Beretta 92FS from the duffle bag. 

“This a semi-automatic pistol. That means everytime you pull the trigger, you’ll discharge one round from the magazine. Most semi-automatics look and work the same.” Lexa points at a small lever above the grip. “This is the safety. You can flick it up and down. Usually you’d use your thumb, but as you’ll be holding it in your left hand, you can use your index finger. If you can see the red dot, that means it’s ready to fire.” Lexa flicks the safety a few times to demonstrate, before pointing at a small button next to the trigger guard. “This is the magazine release button, you push it to release the magazine.” Lexa inserts a magazine into the grip, then pushes the button to eject it. She looks at Clarke. 

“Got it.” Clarke says.

Lexa inserts the magazine again and points to the top of the pistol. “This is the slide. Once you’ve inserted a magazine, you should pull back the slide, this loads a round into the chamber. Then you flick the safety and you’re ready to fire.”

Lexa ejects the magazine once again and engages the safety. She hands the magazine and pistol to Clarke. “Load it and prepare it for firing.”

Clarke inserts the magazine, pulls back the slide and flicks the safety. She holds in gingerly, her fingers nowhere near the trigger. 

“You should fire it.” Lexa says gently.

“Yeah, I need to know.” Even though her voice is strong, Clarke looks nervous and she doesn’t move. 

Lexa steps closer to Clarke and stands by her side. She reaches out and gently lifts Clark’s arm, helping her point the pistol at the tree.

“Clarke, rest your left hand on your right, that will help stabilise the pistol and improve your aim.”

Clarke nods and follows Lexa’s instructions. Lexa steps behind Clarke. “Make sure your feet are shoulder width apart.”

Clarke immediately widens her stance. “Look down the sight and when you’re ready, exhale and squeeze the trigger. Clarke, it will be loud.”

Clarke takes a few breaths to get her breathing under control. She carefully moves her finger to the trigger, lets out a breath and squeezes.

Lexa had warned her, but she isn’t prepared for just how loud it is. She instinctively shuts her eyes and jumps back, bumping into Lexa who is still behind her. Lexa quickly grabs Clarke’s hips to stop them both falling over. Clarke feels her arms shaking, her heart beating rapidly and she finds it difficult to breathe. She recognises the signs of fear, but when she looks over her shoulder, she feels her heart beating quicker for another reason.

Clarke feels Lexa’s hands grip her hips tighter as she looks at her. Lexa looks flushed and her eyes are dilated. Clarke’s gaze drops to Lexa’s full, slightly parted lips. Lexa stares into Clarke’s eyes. The moment lingers and is then gone. Lexa releases her grip on Clarke hips at the same time as Clarke steps forwards. 

“I didn’t realise it would be that loud.” Clarke feels embarrassed, for several reasons.

Lexa offers a weak smile. She goes to clasp her hands behind her back but stops. She tilts her head slightly and finally clasps them in front of her. “You did well for your first attempt. You should keep going until you’ve discharged the magazine. I know it’s… unpleasant, but you should get used to the noise.”

Clarke nods and takes up a firing stance. Lexa makes sure she is several feet away from Clarke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wynonna Earp has been renewed!


	13. Chapter 13

Lexa secures the Beretta 92FS, walks up the stairs and shuts the steel door leading to her armory. She walks down the corridor to the living room and starts to look for Clarke. Lexa quickly finds her when she hears the clink of cutlery from the kitchen. Entering she finds Clarke preparing a turkey salad sandwich.

“Hey, I thought I’d make lunch. You still like turkey salad right?” Clarke asks.

“Yes, thank you, Clarke.” Lexa replies gratefully.

Clarke slides the finished sandwich across the kitchen island, along with a glass of apple juice. She picks up her own sandwich and begins eating. Lexa briefly looks at the kitchen table, she realises Clarke isn’t going to sit down so starts to eat.

“This is good, Clarke.”

“It’s hard to mess up a turkey salad sandwich.”

“Well, if anyone could…” Lexa responds and smiles at Clarke’s exaggerated eyeroll.

“Lexa,” Clarke says, raising her head to look into Lexa’s eyes. “I’ve said some unkind things to you since you came back, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for and you have every right to be angry.”

Clarke smiles ruefully and shakes her head. “12 years is a long time to be angry. I was still mad at you even after you’d saved my life.”

“It shocks me that you would be so stubborn.” Lexa deadpans. 

Clarke lets out a soft, quiet laugh. “I’m not mad at you anymore.” She admits.

Lexa smiles and takes a bite of her sandwich.

 

Clarke, still dressed in her sweats and hoodie, bounces lightly on the padded mat as she looks around Lexa’s gym. 

“Do you really need all this equipment?” Her question is part genuine curiosity, part teasingly sarcastic.

Lexa, who has changed into black tracksuit bottoms and a red t-shirt, looks at the weight machines, free weights, treadmill, stationary bike and elliptical trainer.

“No,” She admits. “I run through the woods for cardio and do bodyweight exercises for strength training.”

Clarke shakes her head. “Then why did you buy all this stuff?”

Lexa shrugs. “I thought I might need it.”

Clarke facepalms. Lexa ignores her and double checks the Glock 19 she is holding is empty.

“The first thing I want to show you, is how to disarm someone holding a pistol.” 

Clarke, deadly serious, nods. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“ A contractor will want to get in close to make sure they have a kill shot and to verify proof of death.”

“Right.” Clarke can’t keep the unease from her voice. The realisation that they are talking about someone wanting to kill her suddenly hits her.

Lexa meets Clarke’s gaze. “This is a last resort, Clarke. I don’t intend to let anyone get this close to you.”

Clarke smiles to reassure Lexa she’s OK. “Show me.”

Lexa hands the Glock to Clarke. “Point it at me.”

Clarke flips the pistol over and sees there is no magazine in the grip. Despite this, she still checks the safety. Lexa knows she shouldn’t be impressed, Clarke was always a quick study, but she is anyway. Clarke points the pistol at Lexa.

Lexa brings her left hand up and lightly taps Clarke’s left wrist. At the same time her right hand comes up and and she grabs the top of the pistol. “The aim is to hit their wrist hard and at the same time, grab and twist the gun. Done correctly, they’ll lose their grip and you’ll end up pointing it at them.”

“That works?” Clarke sounds incredulous. “That seems really simple.”

“You’ve seen it work, Clarke.”

Clarke thinks back to her apartment and realises that’s what Lexa had done to the gunman.

“Do you want to try?”

Clarke nods and hands the pistol to Lexa. Lexa points it at her and Clarke mimics Lexa’s movements. 

“Good.” Lexa says as Clarke’s right hand taps her right wrist and her left grabs the pistol. “If you move fast enough, your opponent won’t have time to react. 99 times out of 100, you’ll have disarmed your opponent before they realise what’s happening.”

“What happens if I run into the person that’s the 1 in a 100?” 

Lexa hears the concern in Clarke’s voice. “I would never point a gun at you, Clarke.” She replies, with the hint of a cocky smile. 

It works. Clarke raises her eyebrows but can’t hide her amused smile. “You maybe overestimating yourself a bit.”

“You’re probably right.” Lexa concedes. “Try it again, but this time do it as hard and as fast as you can.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Clarke, some temporary wrist pain is worth you being able to disarm someone.” Lexa says seriously. “Now, hard and fast.”

Lexa feels the shock travel through her arm as Clarke’s hand slams into her wrist. She ignores the pain and gives absolutely no indication Clarke has hurt her. Clarke grabs and twists the pistol, but she’s unable to keep hold of it and it falls to the floor. Lexa immediately picks it up.

“That was a good first attempt, Clarke. Try again.”

Clarke gets it on the fourth attempt. Her wide, bright smile of accomplishment makes Lexa forget about the pain shooting through her arm.

 

Clarke pulls off her hoodie to reveal a white tank top. She wipes the sweat from her brow and takes a gulp of water. Closing the bottle, she turns to Lexa, who is sitting next to her on the flat bench.

“How do you do this, Lexa? The guns, the fighting, the training, the… everything? How have you survived?”

Lexa turns to looks at her. She tilts her head and thinks for a second. “It’s a mixture of things, Clarke. I’d say it’s ten percent luck, twenty percent skill, fifteen percent concentrated power of will, five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain-”

“And a hundred percent reason to remember the name.” Clarke finishes. “Since when did you start memorising song lyrics?”

“I had no choice. The recruits played it constantly at Parris Island.”

Lexa must read the unasked question on Clarke’s face. “It’s a military installation used for training Marines.”

“What was it like? The training?”

“Most recruits found it difficult. It’s a 12 week program divided into four phases. The physical training is intense and they break you down, mentally and physically. The idea is that you forgot how to think like a civilian and start to think like a Marine.”

“That sounds terrible.”

Lexa shrugged. “I was fit enough that the training didn’t bother me. Mentally, there was nothing to break down, I’ve never thought like a regular person.”

Lexa stands up when she sees the look of pity on Clarke’s face. “Breaks over, Clarke. I want to show you some arm locks.” 

 

Lexa throws two fast jabs and a hard straight right. Clarke blocks the jabs and dodges the straight right. Lexa takes a step back, twists at the waist and unleashes a high kick at Clarke's head. Clarke brings up both hands, blocks the kick with her forearms and fires off a fast cross. Lexa jerks her head back, Clarke's fist stops millimetres from Lexa's jaw.

“I almost got you.” Clarke’s voice is tinged with excitement.

Lexa nods. “That was excellent, Clarke. You effectively blocked my attacks and counterattacked when you saw an opening.”

“If you weren’t so fast you’d be seeing stars now.” Clarke bounces up and down on the mat. 

“Don’t get cocky, Clarke.”

“I think I can take you.” Clarke throws a quick, unexpected left cross at Lexa. Lexa’s hands come up and grab Clarke’s arm. She twists as she steps towards Clarke, using the momentum to throw Clarke over her hip. Clarke’s back hits the mat and a second later she finds Lexa straddling her waist and pinning her hands above her head.

“Clarke, you need to take every fight seriously, even this one.”

Clarke looks up at Lexa. The faint sheen of sweat on her face is making her skin glow and the constant movement has caused strands of hair to come loose from her braid, the soft, wispy tendrils now falling down her face. Lexa is still the most beautiful women Clarke has ever seen. 

Clarke feels an all too familiar feeling begin to stir in her chest and between her legs. She’s not ready for it, she just let go of her anger, it’s too soon for these feelings and she doesn’t want them. Clarke thinks back, remembers the nights she spent crying. The feelings dim, but not by much, she’s already let that go. She summons another memory, Bellamy lying in a hospital bed.

“Lexa, get off me!” She says forcefully.

Lexa, who suddenly realises the position they are in, jumps to her feet. She extends an arm to help Clarke up. Clarke ignores it and gets to her feet.

“I apologise, Clarke. I just… I thought-”

“It’s fine.” Clarke responds, more harshly than she intends. She softens her voice. “Can we take a break?”

Lexa nods. “Of course. We’ve been at this for hours, so let’s call it a day. You can get some rest before dinner.”

“Good.” Clarke turns and leaves the gym.

 

Clarke runs her fingers over the intricate carvings that run along the edge of the dining table. It is a beautiful piece of art, long enough to seat twelve people. In the center is a carving of a large tree below a sun.

Clarke looks up when Lexa enters carrying two plates. Lexa puts one plate in front of Clarke, chicken, shrimp and rice, and walks around the table to sit opposite her. Lexa reaches for the bottle of white wine already on the table and pours a glass for Clarke, then one for herself.

“Thank you.” Clarke says. “This is beautiful.” She indicates the table.

“It was made by someone I helped.”

Clarke understands the meaning, and tone, behind Lexa’s words. The thought of Lexa killing people still makes Clarke a little uneasy. She smiles weakly and begins to eat.

They eat in silence for a while before Lexa speaks. “How are your old gang, Clarke?”

Clarke smiles. “They’re good. Wells works in City Hall. He’s overseeing youth programs and afterschool activities for children with difficult home lives.”

Lexa can’t help but smile. “He said he wanted to go into local politics to make Arkadia a better place.”

“Yeah, he’s also trying to secure funding to expand the program. He’s done a lot of good things since he’s been there.” The pride in Clarke’s voice is evident.

Lexa looks thoughtful. “I can probably help with the funding.” She says quietly. “How are the others?” She continues.

“Monty is a very in demand computer programmer. I don’t really know what that means, but I do know he makes a lot of money.”

“I had a feeling Monty would be the most financially successful.”

“Jasper is a horticulturist and engaged to this really nice girl called Maya. Octavia is a personal trainer at a gym. She’s dating a guy called Lincoln who works there to. He looks like a greek god and he’s also the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. He’s an artist as well and he’s just so sensitive and caring.”

“Sound like someone has a crush.”

Clarke smiles. “Well, if Octavia hadn’t gotten there first… Even if I’d met him first, they would have ended up together. He’s really good for her, he’s started to soften her sharp edges and you can tell how much they love each other.” 

“I’m very happy for her.”

“Bellamy couldn’t attend the police academy.” Clarke watches Lexa and tries to spot any signs of discomfort. She sees none, Lexa simple waits for her to continue. Clarke can’t help feeling disappointed in her. “So he trained to be a teacher. He teaches History at Arkadia High.”

Lexa simply nods in response. Clarke feels the disappointment turn to anger. “He still walks with a limp.” She says pointedly.

Lexa looks up and Clarke can see the annoyance on her face. “I suspect he always will. The damage to his kneecap was extensive.”

Usually Clarke’s furious glare would cause Lexa to avert her eyes. This time she doesn’t. Lexa holds Clarke's gaze and Clarke sees the challenge in Lexa’s eyes. After a few seconds, Clarke looks away. When Lexa speaks, it is softly, obviously trying to defuse the situation. “It was a long time ago, Clarke. I understand that you’re angry, but can we leave it in the past?”

Clarke sighs, releasing some of her anger. “Yeah, I guess we can.”

They are quiet for a time, their dinner almost eaten before Lexa speaks again. 

“I was sorry to hear about your Father.”

“Thanks.” Clarke smiles sadly.

“He was the best man I’ve ever met. I loved him. He treated me like a girl and not the daughter of Titus Woods. He showed me what it was like to be normal, for that I will be forever grateful.”

Clarke blinks away the water in her eyes. “He loved you too. It was difficult, after he passed. My Mom and I drifted apart, we didn’t realise how much we relied on him to keep us together. It took us some time, but we have a good relationship now.”

“It’s often the case that two people, who are very much alike, don’t get on.”

Clarke raises her eyebrows. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.”

“You are both stubborn, incredibly pig headed and often refuse to listen to reason.”

Clarke opens her mouth to protest. Lexa doesn’t give her a chance. “Both of you are also exceptionally intelligent, loyal, brave and natural leaders. You inspire everyone around you to be better and I’ve never met two women as amazing as the Griffin women.”

Clarke has to blink away more water. “Thank you, Lexa.”

Lexa shrugs. “It’s the truth, Clarke.” 

The rest of the dinner is quiet, each woman lost in their own thoughts, occasionally stealing a glance at the other. When they’ve finished, Lexa takes their plates into the kitchen, before coming back into the dining room.

“Clarke, are you ready to find out why someone is trying to kill you.”


End file.
